


A Year of Dates

by LilTabasco



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, Lazuli is Piccolo's Guardian Angel, Piccolo has a crush on the local cashier, lots of fun and piccolo being stupid about love, this is not meant to be taken seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 15:33:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8719201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilTabasco/pseuds/LilTabasco
Summary: Piccolo is apparently so unlikely to ever find love, that a guardian angel is sent down to help him out. Lazuli isn't the perfect angel - but she just might be able to help him with his current crush. It takes over a year of misunderstandings, but she finally gets her job done. Piccolo x Chi Chi AU





	

**A Year of Dates:**   
**A memoir of one man being courted and not fucking knowing it**

“So,” Piccolo shifted in his seat, and stared at the woman who was currently occupying his bedroom. “You are…”

“An angel,” the woman said, shaking back straight blonde hair. She was wandering about the room, touching things. Piccolo wanted to tell her to stop, but he wasn’t quite sure of the ramifications regarding telling a supposed angel to “fuck off”. It was a bit unsettling—especially—when he reminded himself that he was not a religious man, nor was he quite sold that angels wore denim jeans and low cut blouses. He was pretty certain they didn’t clamber on top of desks, cross their legs, and look at you with such an ‘eat shit’ look, either.

However, regular people didn’t descend from his ceiling in a blinding bath of golden light, which is what had just happened.

“And you’re in my room, because…?”

“Because your life is like—an actual shit-show.”

“Excuse me?”

“Like—the worst. So bad, that God came to me personally, and said, and I quote, ‘holy hell, please go help him’.”

“I really don’t think God said that.”

“Which one of us knows him—you or me?”

Piccolo stared.

“Right. Once you pick your jaw up off the floor,” the angel drawled, “we can get this whole thing going. I just need you to initial some paperwork for me, then we can get this guardian angel crap out of the way.” She waved her hand imperiously, and Piccolo was startled when a heavy book thumped down onto his lap.

“You’re supposedly sent from ‘heaven’,” Piccolo began, just to be interrupted.

“Don’t put quotations around it. That’s fucking rude.”

“And yet you’re cussing and have to use paperwork.” He poked demonstratively at the hefty book on his lap, thumbs flipping the edges of the papers.

“I’m sorry, was there a sin about cussing that I don’t recall?” the angel snapped. Her lids seemed perpetually at half-mast, and it certainly didn’t help the condescending attitude she kept putting out there.   
“I haven’t read the bible,” Piccolo admitted, albeit slightly begrudgingly.

“Wow.” The woman leaned back, sneer obvious. “You just suck all around. No wonder I got sent to you. I can’t help but feel like you’re a hopeless case, though. Anyways, could you sign the paperwork so we can get your stats? I need to do an analysis on your soulmate, blah, blah, blah.”

“Fine,” Piccolo grumbled, and glanced nervously at the paperwork. He hadn’t been the best in school, and all the jargon was making his head pound. He scanned row after row of words, before a bleary blink, and squinted up at the angel. “I don’t have a pen.”

“All around useless, huh?” She scoffed, waved her hand, and a pen appeared in his hands.

“If you can just magic stuff up, why can’t you fix my supposed ‘problems’?” Personally, Piccolo didn’t feel like there was anything wrong with his life. He worked at the local gym as a trainer, made a measly amount, grocery shopped at the local produce market, and then came home each day. He supposed it wasn’t amazing in the grand scheme of things—he wasn’t making a huge impact on the world—but he didn’t see why that would matter to someone as all-important as an angel.

“I’m an angel, not a miracle worker, buddy,” the angel’s sardonic reply came. “Anyways, I can’t magic up friendships, or relationships, or an actual feeling of self-worth. Those are things you must do on your own, with just a little bit of ethereal guidance. Now, sign the damn papers!”

“Fine,” Piccolo snapped. What do I have to lose? he thought, puckering his mouth into a frown as he scribbled out his name in all the requested spots. From what he could remember from media consumption, it was demons that made horrendous contracts, not angels. And if God hated him so much as to trick him, then he supposed there was no way to escape that level of heavenly wrath, was there?

“Thanks,” the angel snapped her fingers, and the room was lit with a holy yellow light, basking his meager possessions in its glow. She flapped her huge white wings, and Piccolo twitched his rather large ears at what sounded like an organ bellowing out rather loud notes. “The name’s Lazuli, and I’m officially your guardian angel.”

Piccolo stared dismally down at his covers. “Great. Perfect. Can I go to sleep now?”

“Not quite.” Lazuli stomped over to his bedside, and glanced critically over him. “First, I’ve got to figure out what exactly it is you’re missing from your life. We’ll go with the stereotypical ‘love’—how’s that?” She managed to say all of this with a straight face, and a deadened voice. She glanced at a watch she wore on her wrist, and tapped at it in aggravation.

“I’m not missing love in my life,” Piccolo snarled.

“Uh-huh. Okay, big guy. Where’s this magical significant other of yours, huh?” Lazuli tipped her head to the side, sheet of blond hair sweeping across her shoulders as she regarded him. If possible, her lids lowered even further.

“I don’t have a significant other,” Piccolo replied in aggravation. “I’m just not missing it from my life.”

Lazuli averted her attention back to her watch, leaving Piccolo even more begrudged towards her behavior towards him.

“Ignoring you. I’m doing a search for your soul mate…” Lazuli pursed her lips. “Wow…” She paused, and despite his protestations, Piccolo glanced over at her. He wondered if it would be… “You suck so bad there’s literally no one in the database. How am I supposed to work with this?” She demanded, like Piccolo had personally made sure he was undesirable.

Piccolo growled, and sunk back into his bed, pulling the purple comforter up over his head. He was over this. He wasn’t going to be insulted by some blonde girl and her snarky attitude.

“I couldn’t help but notice that your ears got all twitchy when I mentioned the soulmate… did you happen to have someone in mind?” Piccolo drowned out Lazuli’s drawling voice, and focused instead on falling asleep, and hoping that all of this was a nightmare.

His hopes were dashed, however, as his alarm blared, and an agitated Lazuli sat on the edge of his bed, picking at her wings.

“Stop goddamned molting on my bed!”

He’d spent the entire morning cleaning up feathers that had been shed all over his bedroom floors, and was in a rather pissy mood by the time he could stomp his way into his converse and head out the door. And, of course, he was stuck with a rather bored looking angel flapping along in his wake.

“Do you mind?” he snarled, turning to bare his teeth at her.

“I really do. Did you brush your teeth before we left?” Lazuli retorted, and Piccolo, out of habit, blew upwards. He smelled nothing, and realized that she’d been fucking with him when a derisive snort came beside him.

“Fuck off,” he grumbled.

“I can’t. I unfortunately get to accompany through your whole exciting day. Maybe figure out what the hell is wrong with you. What makes you hopeless, yada-yada-yada.” Lazuli rolled her hand at her wrist. “Also, don’t bother speaking to me. Not only are you terrible company, but you’ll be seen as talking to yourself. I know—shocker. Ethereal being can’t be seen by regular mortals. Whatever.”

Piccolo stuffed his hands in his pockets, and sped up his pace. He still had to get to the grocery store. He was off work for the day—which was one blessing. He supposed he needed to get used to having a non-real entity hovering around his shoulder.

He entered the grocery store, the doors sliding open with a refreshing ding. The air conditioner rumbled up ahead, basking them in the cool air inside. He kept his hands stuffed inside his pants pockets, and moved over to the giant crates of produce.

“Oh, you!” a small woman approached him. She had hair slapped back in a sloppy bun, long black bangs framing her oval face. Her eyes were soft and brown, but her eyebrows seemed perpetually furrowed. What you could see of her arms revealed large muscles, and she wore the uniform green apron over her khakis, which hugged her large hips. “Don’t you get tired of coming in here?”

“I eat lots of fruit,” Piccolo muttered, glaring rather angrily at an apple.

“Guess it’s got something to do with all the green, huh?” the woman—Chi Chi—said. He’d known her name very well since the tenth time he’d come into the store. The first few times, he’d thought nothing of her. Just a plain Jane, boring human who was worth no extra amount of his attention. Then, he’d come to the store on a typical Monday…

<em>“Hey! That man stole my purse!” a girl’s scream pierced Piccolo’s ears, and he gave her a dismal look. Honestly, if she didn’t want her stuff stolen, why not hold on a little tighter to it. In all the commotion, though, he glanced over, and saw Chi Chi.

“Come back here, you bastard!” She’d leaped over the counter, tearing off her apron as she lunged over it. Several customers toppled over as she pushed them out of the way. Piccolo stared at her in amazement, before he realized that thief was running past him.

Without thinking, Piccolo had lifted his arm, and the assailant ended up clotheslining himself against him. The robber quickly scrambled back up to his feet, shoes squeaking against the tiles—but it was all the jump that Chi Chi needed. While the moron was still scrambling back up to his feet, Chi Chi slammed an elbow directly between the guy’s shoulder blades, grabbed him around his middle, and suplexed him backwards over her shoulder.</em>

Piccolo had been left staring in slack-jawed awe.

Ever since then, he’d harbored… a bit of a crush. He wasn’t going to tell Lazuli that, though. He was self-loathing, but not that bad. He wasn’t quite sure how to feel about the angel yet, and he didn’t know how far she would take things—or in what direction.

“So, what are you planning on today, big guy?” Chi Chi peered over, her little silver name tag winking up at him. “You live alone, huh? Do you eat right? I have a friend who’s completely unreliable about anything like that. I reckon it’s a bachelor thing.”

“What makes you think I live alone?” Piccolo grumbled self-consciously. His large ears pinned themselves back against his skull.

Chi Chi gave him a dry look. “Somethin’ about you, I guess.”

He flushed. Lazuli seemed to have disappeared, and he was kind of grateful.

“Well, if you’re done making base judgements about me, then—,”

“Oh, don’t get sensitive on me.” Chi Chi pursed her lips. “I guess a big boy like you, I reckoned you could take a joke or two. Sorry ‘bout that.” She shifted her hips, hands going to rest on them. He tried not to stare too hard at her. “It’s mostly just ‘cause you always buy small amounts and that’s it.”

“Hn… you’re not wrong,” Piccolo admitted. He found he liked the way her eyebrows angled up, creasing her brow. Her little nose seemed turned up as well, and she lifted it up to face him, accentuating it even more. He found himself wondering what she’d look like from a reasonable angle—she was so tiny he couldn’t rightfully see her from up above like he was. “I do live alone.” Barring the angel that moved in last night.

“Make sure you’re taking care of yourself, then. You sure buy a lot—you makin’ sure to ration your stuff out right? Did you know that we run special deals on Sundays, and you can get all that you’re buying for at least half the price?”

“Are you running me a sales pitch?”

Chi Chi jutted out her jaw. “Just trying to be helpful.”

He shuffled away in awkward silence, scooping more fruits into his basket. He was soon disrupted, though, as Lazuli appeared. She was sitting on the edge of the crate, legs folded as she calmly observed him. He halted in his fruit picking, a frown creasing his brow.

“I left you alone for a few minutes at my own peril.” Her voice remained flat as she spread her fingers wide, presumably checking her consistently supreme nails. “That woman—the Chinese one—you’ve got a crush on her, don’t you?”

Piccolo flushed.

“I certainly do not—,”

“Need I remind you that no one can see me?” Lazuli prompted. He snapped his jaw shut with an audible click, and angrily grabbed a pomegranate next to Lazuli’s thigh. “Anyways, you obviously like her. Don’t play with me. I’m here to get you set up, then I get to go back home. So why don’t you hurry up and admit it?”

“There’s nothing to admit,” Piccolo hissed. He squeezed the pomegranate with a bit too much force. He managed not to burst it, and instead dropped it in his basket. He glared at it.

Lazuli sighed. “C’mon, stop being stupid. Why don’t you invite her to that gym you work at? She looks buff.” The angel gave Chi Chi an approving once over, as the woman had moved on to run the register, scanning away at people’s items.

Piccolo muttered something under his breath, but did make his way over to the counter. When his turn came, he handed over the basket, while Chi Chi began typing in the proper codes for his items. He pressed his mouth into a harsh line, before shoving his hand into his pocket. He withdrew money, and a rather nondescript business card. He’d made it—to promote his services through the gym, and had crafted the plainest card he’d ever seen. His cousin had remarked that it suited him terribly.

“$10.57,” Chi Chi spoke up, her brown eyes staring up at him. He gritted his teeth, and tried to ignore Lazuli’s gaze burning into him. He stuffed the bills towards Chi Chi, and wavered as she handed him his receipt.

“Come on,” Lazuli groaned.

Piccolo sucked in a deep breath, and shoved the card at Chi Chi. “We’re doing a promotional sale at work. Sign up and you get five free lessons.” He tried to suppress the uprising feeling of vomit. “Here.” Chi Chi took the card from him, and on autopilot Piccolo hastily grabbed at his bags and took off out the front door. He didn’t bother to wait for any formal reply.

Outside, he began his walk home, not even starting when Lazuli appeared at his side.

“Smooth operator, aren’t you?”

“What the hell ever,” he snarled. “And a fat lot of good you did me—you damn near disappeared at some point in there.” He waved a hand demonstratively backwards, his plastic bags swung from his wrist.   
Lazuli flicked him a rather critical gaze. “I saw someone I recognized.” That stopped Piccolo short. “Listen, it’s none of your business. I did steal your card, though—fair warning, you’re going to have an eight-dollar charge on there.”

“What?!”

* * *

 

Life, it turned out, passed rather normally with Lazuli around. Despite her rather rude countenance, she didn’t particularly enjoy meddling in his affairs. Every once in a while, she might comment on whether something was the source of Piccolo’s unhappiness in life (his poor taste in TV shows, his poor taste in music, his dismal appearance), she didn’t meddle too much. There were a few remarks about possibly revisiting the grocery store, however Piccolo would just stoically point out that he had plenty of food on hand.

The eight-dollar charge did indeed prove to have happened—apparently at the coffee shop at the grocery store. Piccolo had tried, multiple times, to ask Lazuli about it, yet each time she’d give him a disdainful hair flip, and focused on her nails.

“What time do you work tonight?” Lazuli was perched on the back of the sofa, facing away from the TV as a form of silent protest. Over a week had passed, and he didn’t even bat an eye at her as he answered.

“I go in at five.”

She muttered something unintelligible, but he knew that she was growing antsy. While she wouldn’t come right out and say anything, he was under the impression that angels didn’t like to be away from Heaven. He was still entirely unconvinced that the place existed, and honestly, that Lazuli wasn’t all some fever dream. The money missing from his account was real, though, as were the plenty of feathers that she left all about. It was particularly annoying when they got caught up in the rug.

“Maybe tonight will be the night that this never-ending hell will end,” Lazuli griped.

“I doubt it.” Piccolo knew she was referring to a visit from Chi Chi—which he was certain was not happening. The thought made him want to slam his head against his bathroom mirror. He’d had a perfectly good thing going—she said hi, he said hello back, and then the two had idle chit-chat over whether kiwis were of any merit. Once he’d been feeling courageous, and had asked her who the provider was of their particular freight, and she’d told him she honestly didn’t know. It had been a fulfilling experience, insofar as he was concerned.

With Lazuli’s appearance, he’d had to put a quick end to all that, and unfortunately broach onto unforgiving territory. He was big, green, and freaky, and had just broken all social norms to ask her in a quite rude way to join up at his gym. As he saw it, you had to be a certain tier of friendship to offer tokens, advice, or places of recommendations. He wasn’t even on tier zero, and had tried to bounce himself up to undefined heights that he should never have seen anyways.

Beside him, Lazuli had picked up his phone, and was meddling with it. He didn’t particularly care—the most she’d see is some rather incoherent messages from his cousin Nail, or his other cousin Dende. She began pecking around on it, before pulling up something, and stuffing it at him.

Music filled the room—the sounds of So High floated against his ears. He promptly pinned them back against his skull.

“This is how you’re thinking,” Lazuli said demonstratively, indicating the phone with a rather pointed finger. Her dry look was fixated on him, and she tilted her head to the side. “If you keep thinking this way, then we’re never going to find you any love.”

“You said yourself that there was no match for me,” Piccolo snarled, and his hands tightened in his lap. He wasn’t sensitive—he’d taught himself not to be. When all your life you’ve been a pathetic joke, you learned to repress everything. And repressing was what Piccolo was best at. So, what if Chi Chi was perhaps the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen? None of that mattered when he couldn’t even take a simple question from the woman without snapping her head off. There hadn’t been any real conversation between them—and Lazuli harassing him didn’t change that fact.

“Jesus… listen, the thing’s not a hundred percent accurate, okay?” Lazuli leaned back, and looked begrudgingly down at her pocket. “Do you know how many humans there are? I mean, keeping track of so many fickle people does not work as well as you’d think.”

Piccolo frowned. “Even if there was a match for me, I’m a hundred percent certain it’s not Chi Chi.”

Lazuli pursed her lips. “Why?”

He grimaced. He didn’t want to talk to Lazuli about this. She was beautiful, blonde, with big blue eyes—a literal goddamned angel. She wouldn’t understand looking in the mirror and seeing giant ears flapping back at you, or the ugly green skin that people always commented on.

She sighed. “Societal expectations of beauty are bullshit, just so you know.” He looked at her, but she didn’t return his gaze. She simply went back to fiddling with her nails in a rather bored way. “If you think she’s too hot for you, I’ll tell you there’s no such thing.”

He didn’t bother to reply. Instead, he got up and began getting dressed for work. Which wasn’t that different from his normal gear. He pulled on a simple t-shirt, and his purple sweat pants that hung loose enough on him so he could move. Lazuli fluttered along behind him, her half-lidded eyes following him as he got in the car and drove to work.

When he arrived at the gym, he was greeted by an overly enthusiastic back-pat from his cousin Nail. The large man looked very like Piccolo—though he, of course, had a much smaller nose, smaller ears, and in general was more pleasant than himself.

“Welcome, cousin dear,” Nail cheered, before hopping on top of the counter. Piccolo returned the greeting as a non-committal grunt, while Lazuli began to lazily drift off to the side. She appeared to be moving with some interest over to where a cop was currently working away on a machine. The little man came in all the time, working until his bald head shone.

Piccolo was distracted by Nail, who had grabbed his ever present clipboard. The small piece of wood was every workers’ worst nightmare. If Nail happened to approach you with that thing handy, it meant work was in store. Often private clients who complained the entire time, and accused Piccolo of “not caring if they got healthy or not”. Which—wasn’t entirely incorrect.

“All right, big guy, I have a few clients today for you to meet up with—nothing to commit to just yet. I need you to meet with them, talk to them, figure out what kind of plans you’ll need to set up.” Nail twirled his pencil thoughtfully. “I’ll be teaching a class later on, so you won’t be able to reach between six and seven, and—dude, are you listening?” Nail snapped his fingers at Piccolo, but he couldn’t be bothered to respond. He was glad Lazuli seemed to be preoccupied with the weird cop, because Chi Chi had just walked in the door, and Piccolo was quite certain he looked like a complete idiot.

The diminutive woman stood there in the doorway—wearing yoga pants and a sports bra, and God. Piccolo had never been told, so much as he just knew, that you could not ask a woman to let you eat her out. He’d never really had the desire before, either, but looking at her muscular thighs encased in spandex short-circuited a few wires in his brain. If he were any less disciplined there’d be a puddle of drool congealing in between his shoes.

Chi Chi spotted him, and came scurrying over.

“Hey!” she said it forcefully, and almost sounded angry. Piccolo blinked rapidly, until he realized that she was smiling quite a bit. Her thin eyebrows were high up on her forehead, and her bangs bounced as she strode up to him. “I kept waiting for a day off to come check out this place.” She glanced around, and Piccolo wondered if he could say ‘you have nice cleavage’ without sounding creepy.

“Welcome,” Nail’s voice sounded from behind Piccolo, and he could have punched himself in the face. Of course! He’d completely forgotten that he was here with his goddamned cousin. As flustered as he was, Piccolo maintained his stoic face. He gave Chi Chi a grunt and a quick nod, while she shook hands with Nail, listening to him prattle on about features.

“Well, big boy, why don’t you show me the ropes?” Chi Chi smiled up at him, and Piccolo felt his heart stutter.

“Actually, Piccolo has to—,”

“It’s fine, Nail. I’ll show our new client around.” Piccolo interrupted his cousin, not even bothering to look at the baffled Nail. It was really quite wonderful having a relative as a manager. Sometimes it was hell, but right now it was turning out to be beneficial for Piccolo. He side-stepped Chi Chi, and motioned for her to follow him. “I’ll walk her threw the process if she wants to join,” he threw over his shoulder, just to appease the irate looking Nail.

“Who said I’d be a customer?” Chi Chi questioned as they took off walking.

Piccolo gave a weird, half-shrug. “Nail has a good facility. He runs it well. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

“Y’know, this may be the most I’ve ever heard you talk!” Chi Chi teased, and she elbowed him lightly. Piccolo flushed, and his hands tightened from their place in his pocket. “And—now I know your name. Piccolo…” He was certain his face was a purple mess by now. She had no right to go around saying his name in that voice. “It’s prettier than I expected.”

“The hell were you expecting?” he demanded.

“Hm…” She pinched her chin, and crossed her eyes as if she were deep in thought. “Something real masculine… like Trombone.” She snickered, and Piccolo gave her a rather scathing look. “Oh—c’mon, we’ve got to work on that. You have no sense of humor!”

“I think calling that humor is an insult in general.”

“Whatever you say, Flute.”

He bared his fangs at her, but she seemed rather unimpressed. So instead he showed her their machines. She seemed much more smitten with them then his own charming personality. Nail had once said that he was fine—just a bit quirky. Chi Chi said that he was ‘well, kinda okay but you’re a bit of a jerk’. He didn’t know whether these two were comparable, and which one was more favorable.

Chi Chi did seem to like the facility, though, and at the end of their little tour, had taken one of the clipboards (not Nail’s) and had readily signed off on the paperwork he’d offered her. In a surreal state, Piccolo took the clipboard from her, and welcomed her to have the day as essentially a free pass while they processed all of her information. He got behind the counter, and hopped on the old, shitty computer. He was thankful that it was the perfect vantage point to watch Chi Chi deadlift an insane amount.

Unfortunately for him, Lazuli had reappeared and situated herself on the counter. He was startled by her lack of wings, but was used to paying her no attention while they were in public.

“Hey, give me your card,” she spoke up, and he thought fleetingly of pushing her off the counter. Not wanting to appear crazy at his workplace, Piccolo plugged in everything Chi Chi had written down. He sensed Lazuli approaching him, and her blond curtain of hair brushed against his face while he worked. Her hands found his shoulders, and she once more repeated, “Give me your damn card.”

“I’m trying not to appear crazy,” Piccolo hissed through clenched teeth.

“Oh—people can see me right now,” Lazuli said in an off-hand voice. Piccolo jumped and whirled around in his seat. She was entirely too close, and still had a grip on his shoulders. It was like she was attempting to intimidate him—but had seemingly forgotten that she was significantly smaller than him. Outside of ethereal powers, she wasn’t exactly a threat.

“The hell do you mean?” he demanded.

Lazuli sighed, and rolled her eyes. “I’m projecting a mortal body right now, so that people can physically see me.”

Piccolo had questions, but he decided that none of them needed answering. If he were being honest, he didn’t actually trust Lazuli to have extensive knowledge of the holy powers that she flouted. One time he’d asked her why she shed if the wings weren’t real, and she promptly asked him why he breathed if no one wanted him. He’d decided to leave her be about matters like this after that.

“Fine. I’ll accept your shit answer. Why do you want my card, though?”

“Because I want money.” Lazuli said this very slowly, as if he were very stupid and she had to help him think. Each word was punctuated by a rather piercing glare.

Piccolo sucked in a deep, calming breath.

“The hell do you need money for, you’re an angel?” Piccolo made sure to keep his voice low, measured, and calm.

“I know what I am, dipshit.” Lazuli groaned, and released his shoulders in favor of standing up with her hands on her hips. “You really going to have me reach my hands into your pockets?” Her droopy eyelids sunk even lower as she pointedly glanced at his pants. Piccolo grimaced. “I feel the same way.”

“You’ve stolen it before,” he griped, “why ask this time?”

“I was trying to be polite,” Lazuli sniffed. “That… and I didn’t see where you put it this time.”

“It’s in my locker,” Piccolo finally relented. “Though why do you need it?”

“I gotta date. Something you could do if you actually applied yourself.” Lazuli tossed her hair and walked away.

Piccolo frowned after her. He attempted to return to his computer work, but was interrupted by Chi Chi, who had also appeared at the counter. She hopped up on one of the stools, and leaned her chin against her hand.

“Was that your girlfriend?”

Piccolo choked. “Fucking—no!” His hands pulled sharply away from the keyboards, and he glared in the direction that Lazuli had taken off. “She’s a pain in my ass is what she is.”

“She’s pretty,” Chi Chi said. He gave her an odd look. “Lots of guys like that look.” She didn’t elaborate any further, and Piccolo slowly returned to the computer. The moment his hand touched the keyboard, though, Chi Chi spoke up once more. “Do you have a significant other?”

“No,” he grunted. Because he was so pathetic that God had to literally intervene in his shit life. It was so unlikely that he’d ever date, that he apparently need supernatural guidance. It should have been flattering that someone Up There cared so much, but really it just felt extremely insulting.

“Well, that’s good,” Chi Chi said, and he furrowed his brow. The hell was it good for? It was so bad he got an angel assigned to him. A bad angel, sure, but one none the less. Though he supposed he preferred Lazuli over the movie depictions of angels. He couldn’t have handled some happy, pious little twit fluttering around his head. He had Dende for that.

Chi Chi sat there for ten more minutes, before she finally announced that she had to get home. She stopped, though, and asked him what days he worked. Confused, he answered her, and saw her tapping something into her cell phone. But then she was gone, and Lazuli hadn’t returned. He was getting comfortable once more, when there was suddenly the sound of a clipboard snapping closed, and Nail had reappeared in a huff. Apparently Piccolo was not getting away free for his rudeness towards Nail.

“Janitorial duty,” Nail had said, scribbling furiously away on his clipboard.

“But, that means I’ll be with—,”

“Ah! Maybe next time a little less sass, and a little more moving that ass to your meetings, huh?” Nail gave him a very critical look. “You’ll start tomorrow. You already know our lovely janitor, so I’m sure he’ll be more than willing to show you the ropes.”

Lazuli had, of course, appeared in enough time to watch Piccolo’s humiliation. He wouldn’t tell her who the janitor was, and left early enough to avoid even seeing him. It was going to be hell enough for the next month while he was on punishment, and he wanted to prolong his freedom and sanity while he still could.

* * *

 

The next day he went to work, Chi Chi was there, already running furiously on an elliptical. She looked like she was going to break the damn thing the way she went at it. It looked almost as if she were angry, slamming into it with all of her force. Piccolo watched in admiration, and Lazuli whistled crudely behind him.

“Hey!” Chi Chi shouted, and braked quickly to a halt. Piccolo jerked, and looked around him as the fiery woman hopped off the machine. She swiped at her forehead with the sweat towel draped over her shoulders as she stomped up to him. “How are you today?”

The inane question caught him off-guard, and he grunted something unintelligible. His hands were soon stuffed in his pockets, and Lazuli groaned in aggravation.

“I’m never going back,” she said to no one in particular, while Piccolo had to fight not to snap in her direction. “Ask her how her day was!” Lazuli prodded him sharply in the shoulder.

“How—,” Piccolo cleared out his throat, and tapped one of his toes against the tile to distract himself, “how’s your day been?”

“Shitty! This girl I work with sat in the back tucked behind some boxes on her phone all day,” Chi Chi fumed, and her fists clenched up at her sides. “I mean—the hell? I’m not there to cover somebody else’s shift plus mine!” She was practically steaming at the ears, and Piccolo didn’t quite know how to respond. He could hear Lazuli hissing something about comforting her in his ears.

“D’you want to spar?” It was the only thing Piccolo could think of that would help in this situation. Whenever he was angry, that’s typically what he needed. Granted—nobody was really willing to spar against him. From his size, to his muscle mass, and to his entire persona in general, everything was very off-putting to any challengers.

Lazuli began muttering under her breath about how inept he was, when to both of their surprises, Chi Chi gave him a light slug on his arm and winked.

“Sure, big guy. But don’t cry if I hurt you, okay?” Chi Chi was smirking, and Piccolo felt his cheeks flush. He nodded dumbly, before motioning her over to the sparring mat. He asked her if she wanted gear, but she scoffed at him.

“All right, so what you’re going to want to do,” Piccolo rattled off, voice flat as he began instructing, “is—,”

“Save it, green bean—I know how to fight.” Chi Chi rolled her eyes, and he gave her an aggravated look. She seemed muscular enough, but he didn’t like the blasé way that she approached him. He motioned for her to strike first, and immediately regretted it when she jumped and socked him in the nose.

He yelped, and rushed to stem the blood that was flowing down his lips. As soon as her feet touched down, Chi Chi seemed to realize what she’d done, and rushed over.

“Let me see it, I can help stop it—,”

“Hell no,” Piccolo snarled, and grabbed her by the wrist. His and was slick with some of his own blood as he gripped her. She had two seconds to blink before he’d jerked her forward, kicked her knees out, and had her flat on her back. She swore from the mat, before bouncing back up.

“You jerk!” Chi Chi huffed. “I was going to help you, but fine!”

Across the room, Lazuli slammed her head against the wall, and promptly disappeared outside. He was certain he heard her mutter something about a ‘lost cause’ as she departed. Piccolo didn’t mind her absence, as he was too busy wiping the blood off of his face. He was certain he looked demented with purple streaks leaking into his teeth, but Chi Chi didn’t seem to care.

She stood there, hands planted firmly on her fists as she glowered at him. Her mouth was tilted at the corner, just a bit, though, as she bounced forward and punched him solidly in the ribs. He once again grabbed her wrist, tugged, and pushed and elbow in between her shoulder blades. Chi Chi tumbled and sprawled out face first, where she swung her leg around and kicked his shin. While he hobbled, she spun, and tried to punch him in the ribs again.

He saw her this time, though, and caught her punch, giving her a triumphant grin. He knew his face was disgusting and grimy, but he saw her face light up as he lightly kicked her in the stomach, sending her back down once more.

He was at a disadvantage, with his more defensive stance as she came back swinging. Her fists and feet moved incredibly fast, and while she was short, she made it up for it with several well timed jumps. She managed to move using the balls of her feet, always springing high enough to graze his jaw with her heel.

He finally saw his opening, though, as she fell into a pattern. He reached out, snatched her by the ankle, and jerked her up off the ground. She flailed and hissed like a cat in his arms, attempting to reach him. He held her out at arm’s length and swayed her back and forth. The blood rushing to her face made it an interesting tomato color as she glared up at him.

“I think this means I won.”

“You took more damage,” Chi Chi said snottily. Piccolo rolled his eyes and dropped her. She fell to an ungraceful heap on the ground, where she sat up and puckered her lips into a rather impressive pout. “Do you want me to go get some tissues?” She pointed up at him, where he could still feel blood leaking.

“It’s fine,” he grunted. “I’ve broken it before. This is nothing.”

“Nothing—!” Chi Chi took great offense to that as she clambered back to her feet.

“Don’t take it personal. A little thing like you—I thought you could take a joke.” He grinned, and Chi Chi huffed.

“Nobody likes it when you throw their words back at them!”

“Nobody likes it when you bloody their nose,” Piccolo chuckled. He found himself very relaxed post-fight, and he almost wanted to admit that he liked that she’d bloodied him up. It was pretty amazing. He’d never seen someone so small fight so well. He’d seen her take down that robber, sure—but he wasn’t exactly some two-bit punk stealing purses.

“Sorry about that,” Chi Chi grimaced, but he waved her off. “How about I make it up to you? With dinner?”

Piccolo shifted, and his hands retreated to his pockets. “I don’t really eat much,” he mumbled. “My digestive system won’t process your food.”

“Hm.” Chi Chi frowned, but didn’t press the issue.

Piccolo opened his mouth to say something—he didn’t really know what—when the sound of a pen clicking on repeat reached him.

“Shit… Nail…” Piccolo groaned, and hurriedly tried to swipe more of the blood away. Chi Chi threw him her sweat towel, and despite his disgust, he attempted to use the cleanest corner of the ratty thing. He went to hand it back to her, but her face pinched up.

“Please. Keep it. Burn it. I don’t care.” Chi Chi shook her head. “And what about a nail?”

“My cousin—the owner,” he explained. “I’m already on his shit list, so I’m staying on the night shift to help with the janitor.” He bared his fangs at that repulsive thought.

“That’s not good for your body to work that late.” Chi Chi informed him of this with a very stern look on her face. She looked two seconds away from a finger wag in his direction. He gave her an odd look, before clicking his jaw closed.

“I don’t have a choice,” he grumbled. He thought, fleetingly, of telling Chi Chi that it was because of her that he was on janitor duty. Though, he supposed that wasn’t exactly fair, considering he’d started this one-sided infatuation himself. Chi Chi hadn’t signed a contract that said he could be a creep.

“PICCOLO!” Nail rapidly approached, and gave Piccolo a rather disdainful look as he got closer. “The hell happened to your face?”

“We were sparring,” Chi Chi piped up from behind him, and Nail gave her an appraising look.

“I’m terribly sorry about my cousin’s actions. Please, if he upset you or made you uncomfortable in any way, please let me know if I can make reparations.” Nail was using his best Manager Voice—it was something he’d been perfecting over the years, and something that was often needed whenever Piccolo dealt with the clientele.

“I agreed to the spar,” Chi Chi waved Nail off, before elbowing Piccolo in his side. “Anyways, big boy right here got quite enough punishment.” She winked, then, and took her leave, promising to see Piccolo later. He tried not to show his embarrassment in front of his cousin. Nail hadn’t spoken yet, but he had his pen pressed thoughtfully up against his cheek.

“So…”

“No.” Piccolo brushed past Nail. If there was anything worse than having an Angel attempting to help with his love life—it was Nail. Before Lazuli had ever appeared, he’d already had a pain in his ass constantly. Nail was always attempting to set him up with clients through the gym, or random people he met around the area. He’d tried to avoid as many potential set ups as he could, but unfortunately Nail knew his schedule and would purposefully assign him to whichever client he was trying to matchmake for the week.

None of them were ever remotely interested. If they were, it lasted until about the third session when Piccolo worked them so hard they couldn’t stand, let alone think of anything witty or sweet to say. His regime was not for the light-hearted, and even though Nail knew that, he still attempted to assign Piccolo to people who couldn’t withstand his workout.

But if there was one thing Piccolo wasn’t allowed in life, it was a break. Nail quickly followed after, pen tapping aggravatingly against the clip board.

“Okay, so what is it exactly about her? I need to know the parameters. If I’m looking for someone, then I need to know what it is you’re attracted to specifically. Was it the black hair? No… you turned down that Yamcha guy. Oh! Ethnicity? No, what the hell do you care about that… Muscles? But you claimed Vegeta was the ugliest thing on this Earth… C’mon, Piccolo! I need to marry you off!”

“I’m not your daughter!” Piccolo spluttered. He gave Nail an aggravated glance, before stuttering to a halt. “Lazuli!” He barked, and curved sharply to the right. His guardian angel was sitting at the smoothie bar, idly swirling around her drink as she chatted with the bald cop he’d seen her hovering around the other day. Lazuli tilted her head to the side and gave him one of her infamous dry looks of boredom, while the cop turned inquisitive, wide eyes his way.

“Yes?” Lazuli drawled out, as Nail finally caught up.

“Give me back my damn card! There has to be another way,” he purposefully looked upwards, “for you to get money for this.” He held out his hand pointedly. Lazuli feigned a shocked expression.  
“Piccolo… you know I stopped that life-style.” Her eyebrows contracted together as she gave the cop a soft look. “I’m trying to move on, but sometimes he loses his temper with me. It’s hard.” She said all this in the flattest voice possible, so Piccolo couldn’t quite understand why the cop’s eyes seemed to moisten as he patted Lazuli on the shoulder.

“Hey,” the cop’s voice was pleasant and cheerful, “you can give your friend your card back. If we meet up again I can start paying for you. I told you the first time it was no problem.” He was smiling at her in such a ridiculous way, that Piccolo wanted to punch him out of sheer principle. Sure, he may have felt just as goofy looking at Chi Chi, but at least he kept his insanity inside like a regular person.

Lazuli rolled her eyes in Piccolo’s direction, where she promptly pulled the card out of her bra, and slapped it into his open palm. Piccolo yelped as if burnt, and dropped it to the ground.

“The hell were you storing it in there for?” he growled. He bent down to pick it up, while Lazuli tossed her hair over her shoulder.

“Where else was I supposed to store it?”

“You have pockets.”

“So do you. So why don’t you stuff it somewhere, and leave me alone.” Lazuli sniffed, and returned to stirring her smoothie. She gave the cop a soft smile, before taking a sip of her drink. “Now, please continue.”

Piccolo was effectively booted out of the conversation as he grabbed his card up. He shot Lazuli was nasty look in departing, while Nail stared in amazement as he followed.

“So, wait… is that another girl you’re seeing? No way! Not you!” Nail seemed deeply perturbed, and Piccolo wanted to scream.

“I’m not seeing either of them,” Piccolo snapped.

“Okay—but you’re interested, right? What’s the common feature… there’s nothing! Nothing similar between the two!” Nail continued to complain before Piccolo finally whirled around and grabbed at his shoulders.

“Nail. I have to go deal with clients now. Leave me alone. I’m not seeing those girls. I’m not after those girls. I don’t want your grubby fingers in my non-existent love life. Are we clear?” Piccolo narrowed his eyes. Nail heaved a big, fake sigh, before pulling out of his grasp.

“Fine, whatever. Die alone. Ruin Kami’s hopes and dreams of somebody settling down with you. Little egg shells all around…” He gave a theatrical sniff, but departed. Piccolo sucked in a deep breath, and rubbed aggravatedly at the base of his antennae. All of these potential migraines, and he hadn’t even gotten to his janitorial duties yet…

He breezed easily through his appointments for the day, instructing them blandly from his own position. He didn’t know if any of them would manage even two more meetings with him at the rate they were going. It was incredibly disappointing. Nail often lectured him on how important it was to go at the client’s pace, and to make sure they could physically and emotionally handle whatever it was that he was dishing out. Piccolo found all that arbitrary and annoying.

His classes finished up, and per Nail’s request, he was to put on the horrible brown jumpsuit that he’d magically conjured up in Piccolo’s size. He zipped up the hideous thing, realizing that it itched in several unfortunate places, and rode up his backside. Apparently, it wasn’t his size after all.

He shut his locker door, and headed out to the counter. He attempted to tuck behind it, to perhaps save himself from some of the trauma of people laughing at him, but being seven feet tall didn’t exactly make him inconspicuous, nor did it make hiding behind a small counter easy. He gritted his teeth, and glared at the doors.

On cue, at precisely nine o’ clock, the doors slammed open, and a diminutive man with spiky black hair stormed into the building. He shoved patrons aside with the free hand he didn’t keep tucked in his jumpsuit pocket. He wore thick, heavy boots that clumped against tile, and he maneuvered his way over to where Piccolo was Not Hiding.

“Your cousin told me you’re working with me,” the man sniffed, regarding Piccolo carefully. “We’ll see if you have what it takes to work with me. I can assure you, this will be no laughing matter like the so-called training you do.”

And that was Vegeta—the local orphan with anger issues. He wasn’t entirely sure how Nail and Vegeta had met, nor the extenuating circumstances for why the two almost got along, but he knew that Vegeta had been hired on as the janitor. Of course, you weren’t allowed to say janitor.

“Being a sanitation officer is serious work, Namek, and you’ll do well to pay attention now. We start with higher areas—,”

“Can you reach those all on your own?”

“—don’t think I won’t demolish your kneecaps, Green Man. Anyways, we start high. You’ll be dusting, managing the lights. Then once that’s done, you’ll be on sweat duty for the machines. Clean them til they shine like your bald head. After that, you’ll join me with working on the floors. And if you mix my Lemon and Lime scents you will end up like the last fool who worked for me.”

Piccolo frowned. “Are you talking about that big ape Nappa? Didn’t he just join the gym across town?”

Vegeta sniffed. “If that’s what you want to believe, Namek, then do as you please. But his leaving was not voluntary. Now—get to work!” The Saiyan was soon gone, leaving Piccolo to wander to the janitor’s closet. He glared at the shelves, and grabbed a random bottle. He shook it around, made sure Vegeta wasn’t looking, and took the ceiling.

He’d been working for a few hours. He was sitting on top of a ladder, scrubbing at a stubborn ceiling tile, when he was startled by someone hitting the ladder. He glanced down, where he saw Chi Chi was standing there.

“Hey!” She did her angry shout again, and rested her foot on the bottom ladder. Piccolo cursed under his breath as he almost toppled over. He was a bit too large for the damn thing anyways, and having the shit scared out of him wasn’t helpful. “I remember you said you’d be working late—I brought food.” In her hand was a little wicker basket. Piccolo furrowed his brow.

“I don’t eat,” he grunted, confused as to her reasoning for being here. The hell did she expect?

“Yes, you do, Green Bean.” Chi Chi leaned her elbows against the ladder and peered up at him through her bangs. “Did you conveniently forget that you shop at my work? Plus, I Googled your species. It’s all stuff you can eat.” She shook the basket pointedly. “C’mon. You legally have to get a break. Why not eat some delicious food?”

Piccolo glanced around. There weren’t many customers at the time, with how late it was, and Vegeta wasn’t in sight. He gritted his teeth before clambering down the steps, and standing tall next to Chi Chi. She grinned, and whirled about, leading him over to one of the free benches.

“Here you go, big boy, I thought you’d be hungry.” Chi Chi plopped down the basket, and knocked back the hinges on it. “Boom. Got you a vegan style burger and Dan Dan Noodles. I toned back on some of the spice—didn’t know how well you’d handle it.”

Piccolo stared at the food in front of him, stupefied.

“I nabbed some water bottles and flavor packets, too.” She crossed her arms, and pointed emphatically. “Well? Don’t just stare at it—eat!”

Piccolo numbly grabbed at the burger. He took a bite, and let out a happy hum before he could stop himself. He flushed, and chewed slowly, trying not to look at Chi Chi’s triumphant face.  
“Why did you…?” Piccolo gripped the burger tightly, and stared at the bun.

“Simple. You can’t be eating well with what you buy—no seasonings, and simple fruits. I bet you just eat them plain and don’t do anything with them! Not under my watch, mister. You’re going to get a proper meal, especially if you’re working extra!”

That didn’t quite answer his question, but Piccolo couldn’t think of an argument, and the food was too good to ignore. Chi Chi kept a running monologue going while they ate, chattering on about the different benefits to different foods. She seemed interested in his species and how they handled protein.

“We don’t,” Piccolo muttered. He’d finished his food, and had taken one of the napkins that she’d proffered him. He rubbed at the tips of his fingers, and swiped the corners of his mouth. “We don’t need it in our diet.”

“But you’re so big!” Chi Chi balked. “My friends’ are half your size, and they have to knock back steak like they’re going to quit making it!”

Piccolo swelled with just the tiniest bit of pride. “You humans just haven’t adapted accordingly,” he said with a decisive nod. “I’d better get back to work, though. The janitor is a real pain in my ass.”  
“Little short fellow with the big hair?” Chi Chi motioned widely at her own cranium, and Piccolo snorted.

“Yeah. Napoleon gets very finnicky about his sanitation.” Piccolo crossed his arms over the ugly jumpsuit, and shrugged. “The food was good.” He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t know what else he could say. It felt surreal, to be sitting here with the woman he’d been looking at from afar for—well, for too long.

“Of course.” Chi Chi grinned as she popped up from her seat, fists planted firmly on her hips. “There’s lots of things I’m good at—cooking is one of them.” She started gathering up her stuff as Piccolo scaled the ladder once more, his washrag stuffed into his back pocket. He waited to make sure Chi Chi’s back was completely turned before he craned his neck to watch her leave.

“NAMEK!” Vegeta’s voice boomed from somewhere in the facility. “I’m doing a parameter check in ten minutes—I expect your area to be spotless!”

Grumbling obscenities, Piccolo scrubbed at a faster pace.

The next day, Chi Chi visited once more, baring more gifts.

And the day after that, she appeared once more.

The third day, she weaseled a phone number out of him—though he wasn’t sure how. He didn’t mind. It just meant that every time he opened his phone’s lock screen (granted it was rarely) that there was a possibility that Chi Chi had messaged him.

And message she did. On days when he was off, he and Lazuli sat together on the couch, reading message after message that the woman sent his way. Chi Chi was the kind of person that seemed to always be with people. They were never the main focus of her messages, nor were they necessarily in the pictures she sent him, but there was always an arm or a leg that floated in the image without a body. And they weren’t Chi Chi’s. Piccolo could always tell when it was her limbs that presented themselves.

“Okay—tell her that you wish you were there with her!” Lazuli instructed, but Piccolo gave her a blank stare.

“But I don’t.”

“What?”

“I don’t like meat—and yes, sushi is meat, Lazuli.” He glared over the top of his phone at the blonde woman.

“You suck, you know that?” Lazuli flopped back down, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Now, if you’re going to sit at home and stew in your suckiness, can I have your card?”

“What?!”

“I have a date with Krillin.” Lazuli smirked.

“What do you have for that baldy, anyways?” Piccolo asked. He shifted on the sofa, and pushed his glasses higher up his nose. Beside him, he could hear Lazuli shift her wings, and for once, she seemed rather quiet.

“When I died—,”

“You were a real person?” that attracted Piccolo’s attention, and he raised his head sharply. The woman seemed to take minor offense to that, if her shedding was any indication. Her look was more than reproachful as she sneered at him.

“Of course I was. What—you think angels are creatures that the big guy created? No! You can’t send perfect, infallible creatures to watch over mortals. They’d murder you all in an instant out of sheer principle! Too many emotions, too many issues… as stupid as mortals can be, it’s gotta be another mortal that handles them.”

Piccolo took that in, and glanced back at his phone. “So… when you were alive?”

“When I was alive,” Lazuli sighed, “I was a complete screw up. Me n’ my brother were two hot-headed messes out on the streets. We’d had so many shitty foster homes that we decided—hell, we can take care of ourselves better then these jackasses.” She flopped down on the edge of Piccolo’s bed, jaw locked in a harsh line. “So we lived a shitty life, doing shitty things, but nobody really cared. We finally got up enough cash, went on Cragislist, and got us a sweet motorcycle.”

Piccolo grimaced. He could guess where this was going.

“I decided that I was gonna drive it first—what did we need classes or a license for? I wrecked it—obviously—and… I came back to look at my body first, because I was morbid like that, I guess? Why wouldn’t you want to see what happens to you afterwards. While I was looking… that cop… Krillin… he pulled up. He was really young, at the time. He was all round faced and stupid—hopeful.” A wry grin stretched across Lazuli’s face. “The kind me n’ Lapis would have messed with because you can’t exist in this world and be happy. Anyways, he pulls up, all sweaty and freaked out. He kneels down next to my body and… he cried.”

“Cried?”

“Yeah, cried. Tears. I’m sure you know what tears are, green bean.” Lazuli’s face was sardonic, but her eyes were soft, and her tone lacked its typical bite. “I’ve never had someone cry for me. Nobody cared about me n’ my brother. We were trash. The other cops told him that, too, of course. But… y’know, I think they burned my body. If they didn’t, I don’t know where I’m buried. But that cop—he put up a little grave marker on the road where it happened. He told me he still takes flowers there every day.” She pursed her lips. “Some of the hope’s gone out of his eyes, y’know? But he’s still doing that… I asked him about—whether he knew the girl or not. He told me, ‘no, but it’s a shame to lose someone that young, isn’t it?’”

“Shouldn’t he recognize you?” Piccolo asked, looking back on all the times Lazuli’s met up with Krillin—and all the charges to his bank card.

“He might have,” Lazuli said, and her grin was less than pleasant, “but my face was smeared five feet across asphalt, so. My features weren’t exactly memorable.”

The silence that filled the room was stony, and Piccolo frowned. He didn’t know what was more disturbing. The fact that Lazuli had died—recently, from the sounds of it—or that she was talking about the destruction of her body like it didn’t matter. Hell, maybe to her, it hadn’t.

“So, that’s why I need your debit card. For my date tomorrow.” Lazuli’s stoic face was back, and the drawl had dredged itself to the front once more.

Piccolo suppressed a sigh, and pinched his nose. “Fine.”

* * *

 

“Hey!” Chi Chi’s shout was a welcome sound by now. “I brought the smoothie like you asked. Come down off that ladder, green bean, we got grub!” Piccolo descended from the ladder, and flopped himself down on the bench. He was like the living dead right now. The past month of dealing with Vegeta had been a huge pain in the ass. The self-proclaimed King of Cleanliness had been running him ragged, on top of his typical clients. The only respite he got was when Chi Chi brought him food like clockwork.

She was propped up on a bench, legs curled up criss-cross style as she ate her own non-vegan alternative to the meal. She wasn’t exactly lady-like in the way she chomped, but Piccolo liked it. Whenever he wasn’t talking, and she was too busy eating, there was always some sound between them.

He snagged one of the sandwiches she’d brought, and chewed at it.

“Today’s my last day as a janitor,” Piccolo mumbled.

Chi Chi smirked. “I thought it was Sanitary Expert in Training?” She had been present for one of Vegeta’s meltdowns, when she’d inadvertently mentioned the word ‘janitor’. It was a bit of a sore spot for the raging man, and he’d gone into a detailed, hyper-charged list of what made him better than a janitor.

“I was demoted,” Piccolo replied, which was one hundred percent true. “Vegeta caught me using mango-scent in the bathroom. He claims that you can’t use fruity smells there, because the it throws the pH balance off.”

“How depressing.” Chi Chi gave him a wry grin. “So what time am I supposed to bring you lunch now?”

“You don’t—,” Piccolo stuttered and faltered.

“Don’t tell me I don’t have to,” Chi Chi interrupted, jabbing his pec with a sharp finger, “because I’m going to. We both know you love my food.” Piccolo didn’t say anything, but the surly flick of his ears betrayed him.

“Whatever… I usually take a break around noon.”

“Damn… I work at the convenience store most days.” Chi Chi sighed, and tilted her head. “Oh—easy. I can come visit you at your house.”

Piccolo jumped, and immediately thought of Lazuli—feathers and all. “You can’t.”

“Why not?” Chi Chi demanded, furrowing her brow. “I mean, I’d let you come to my place, but my roommates are kind of slobs.” He’d heard enough about Yamcha and Goku to know that he never wanted to step foot inside of any place that was inhabited by them.

“It’s just…”

“Is it the blonde girl?”

Piccolo blinked. He thought that Chi Chi had forgotten all about Lazuli’s impromptu appearance during her first visit. It was unfortunate for him, however, that she had not.

“If she’s your girlfriend, then—,”

“She’s not.” Piccolo gritted his teeth as he spoke, and shook his head sharply. “I assure you. She stays with me because…” he trailed off “… her and her brother were troubled kids, and she needed a place to live. She actually dates that bald cop.” With my money, he thought.

“Oh…” Chi Chi looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, that’s awful sweet of you. Didn’t know a surly guy like you had it in ya. So why can’t I visit then?”

Piccolo stifled a groan, mentally protested, before finally releasing a huge sigh.

* * *

 

“You… invited her here? And told her I was some wayward girl that you were so lovely to take in?” Lazuli’s voice was especially dry and brittle as she lowered her lids, and squinted at him. Her fingers drummed against her bicep as she glowered. “I’m impressed you managed to think so quickly, I’ll admit.” She sighed, and tossed her blonde hair. “Fine. I’ll allow it.”

“I didn’t ask your permission,” Piccolo griped, and hurriedly lit a candle. He was scuttling around the apartment, grabbing armfuls of feathers and tossing them in the garbage. He didn’t know if it was sacrilegious or not, but Lazuli didn’t stop him. She merely floated by and observed, occasionally preening another feather out of her wings to throw on the floor. It was clearly to aggravate him, and Piccolo did not appreciate it.

“So—first date, big boy. You nervous?” Lazuli alighted on the counter and crossed her legs.

Piccolo snapped his fangs at her. “I’m not nervous. This is not a date.” As much as he liked to imagine dating Chi Chi, he didn’t see it happening in the future. Even with Lazuli’s help (minimal though it was) he still was not any closer to his crush being reciprocated. Chi Chi was beautiful, strong, and confident. He was big, green, and surly. She would have to be insane to pursue him. But he couldn’t help the small, niggling little bit of him that thought what if?

It was hell, constantly getting excited by the sight of her, by the smell of her food, and by the mere thought of her. He knew he shouldn’t get too invested—but what else could he do? Lazuli would harass him for eternity if he didn’t at least try. Maybe if he was so thoroughly rejected by Chi Chi, then Lazuli would get to go back home, and leave him in peace once more. God would realize that Piccolo was a lost case, and chalk him up to some fluke accident. It had to happen at least once in the history of eternity, so why not to Piccolo of all people?

Lazuli had left her position on the counter in favor of fluttering over to his phone, which she casually opened.

“Ooo,” Lazuli smirked, and craned her neck back to look at Piccolo, “she says she’s almost here. With a winky face. How flirtatious.”

“Lazuli!” Piccolo barked. He stormed over, snatched his phone away from her, and stuffed it in his pockets. “Don’t you have a date with your cop tonight?”

“No, actually, he’s working overtime.” Lazuli sighed, and checked her nails despondently. “It’s a shame. I almost got him to kiss me the other day. Of course—you’re nowhere near that part of your relationship, are you?”

Piccolo glared. He muttered about necrophilia under his breath until Lazuli finally got tired of it all and headed towards the bedroom. Placated slightly by her disappearance, Piccolo focused once more on cleaning. The candles smelled wonderful, he’d vacuumed the couch, scrubbed the sink, cleaned the feet of all the furniture, hand-washed the pillows, and had hand-scrubbed any conspicuous part of the carpet that he could find.

The knock on the door still managed to catch him by surprise, but he quickly recovered, and swung it open.

“Hey!”

The all-too familiar shout. Chi Chi waved cordially at him. She was wearing khaki shorts, and a loose, orange t-shirt that said something about Z-FIGHTERS: SON GOKU. The roommate’s, then. Piccolo frowned at it. Chi Chi pushed past him, dragging along her bag of food as she glanced around with an appreciative whistle.

“This place always this clean?”

“Well—,”

“No-o-o-o-ope.” Lazuli’s voice drawled from the hallway as she leaned against the frame. Her hip jutted out as her elbow rested against the wood. She gave Chi Chi a passing glance. Piccolo was confused by Lazuli’s outfit. So far as he saw, she never really altered from her typical denim. But now, in her human form, she was wearing a white tank-top, and cut off shorts. Her typically immaculate hair was ruffled, and her droopy eyes regarded them easily.

“Nice to meet you. Are you joining us for lunch?” Chi Chi passed Piccolo and headed towards the kitchen. Piccolo whirled desperately to Lazuli, making angry motions at her while Chi Chi’s back was turned. Lazuli, in turn, flipped him the bird.

“Oh, no, just thought I’d come out and see the company.” Lazuli strolled into the living room, and locked eyes with Chi Chi over the breakfast bar. “Piccolo here told me you’d be coming by.” The angel gave him a passing look, as if he didn’t matter at all. He didn’t know what game Lazuli was playing, but it was frustrating him to hell and back.

“And here I am,” Chi Chi’s smile seemed strained. “All right, big boy, come on in here. I’ve got something nice whipped up for you.” Piccolo flashed one last, desperate look in Lazuli’s direction, before joining Chi Chi in the kitchen. The moment he entered, she grabbed him and pushed him onto a stool, where he promptly had a fork stuffed in his mouth.

He was startled, and clamped his teeth sharply down on the metal utensil.

“Easy, killer,” Chi Chi teased, grinning up at him. “Chew your food, not the fork.”

Piccolo sneered down at her, and was thankful to see that Lazuli was retreating further into the apartment. He watched as Chi Chi stared down the blonde as well, only looking back to Piccolo when she’d completely disappeared.

“I’m real happy to have a day off,” Chi Chi sighed, giving no Segway as she plopped down on her own stool, and dropped the fork by Piccolo. He gratefully scooped it up, and began eating. “I hate that damn store.”

He twitched an antenna at her. “You’re always so cheerful.”

“I have to make money—you don’t get paid if you’re rude.” Chi Chi sighed, and dropped her head into her palms. “Daddy keeps bugging me to come back home here lately.”

Daddy. It was the first time he’d heard her mention her father. He’d honestly forgotten how important parents were to other people. His own father was a bit of a mess. Between working with the mafia, and just being a general ass, he and Piccolo hadn’t been as close as they could have been. Then the fool had went and died when Piccolo was twelve. He’d lived with his uncle and Nail after that.

“What does your father want?”

Chi Chi jutted her lips out, and picked at her plate of food. The roommate’s shirt was rather large on her, and the collar hung loose around her collar bone. She swung her feet, the little flats she wore barely on as she tapped them impatiently against the stool.

“He wants me to work with him—but I told him I didn’t want to.”

“What’s so bad about what he does?” Piccolo expected the mafia, or a drug cartel. The latter of which his father had attempted to become involved in. He’d ultimately failed, of course, as he had no knowledge of drugs and how humans interacted with them.

“He’s a mechanic.”

Piccolo started, and then stared.

“Don’t give me that look,” Chi Chi huffed. “I don’t mind doing the stuff, but I’m tired of it. Daddy keeps insisting that I ought to come back home and take over his auto shop. He keeps faking illnesses to get me back.” She scoffed.

Piccolo crinkled up his nose. He had no earthly clue about how cars functioned.

“When you learn how to drop an engine and are reworking transmissions by eight, the stuff loses its luster, you know?”

Piccolo did not know, and he made sure to tell her so. Still, he found it equal parts impressive and ridiculous to imagine a baby Chi Chi, covered in oil, banging away at a motor. Of course, he was not very imaginative, nor was he certain of how cars worked, so his image was lacking. He wondered if there were pictures. He didn’t ask.

“So what do you want to do?” He fiddled with his fork.

Chi Chi sighed. “I want to be a wife.” Her voice was wistful as she played with her bangs. “And then a mother, of course.”

Piccolo stared.  
Her soft expression quickly became fierce. “What—you looking down on me just because I want to be a wife? I’ll have you know it’s a damn hard job, and I’m not getting judged for it anymore! I’ll put every ounce of being I have into being someone’s wife, and taking care of the household!” She glared at him, eyebrows furrowed in consternation as she blew air like an angry bull. “People always seem to think so ill of it—who do you think keeps the place held together?”

Piccolo blinked.

“I wasn’t judging you,” he said slowly. Then he shrugged. “It’s all the same to me whatever you do.”

Chi Chi’s face reddened, and she gave him a light punch.

“Well, why the hell didn’t you stop me, then?!”

He tried to roll his eyes discreetly, but Chi Chi caught him.

“Keep it up, mister, and no food!”

Piccolo didn’t verbally protest, but he didn’t hunker his shoulders down, and pin his ears flat. Chi Chi seemed to have mercy, though, as she crossed her arms and huffed.

“Fine, fine, big boy. I won’t take your food. Eat up. You need all that you can get.” She grinned at him, a sliver of pride showing on her face. “See—this is what wives do for you.” She leaned in rather close, and her smile was blinding. “Ain’t it grand?”

Piccolo flushed, but didn’t respond. He didn’t know if it was okay that Chi Chi had her hand rested on his knee. He didn’t want her to be frightened, and so he kept it to himself that it was resting there. He wondered if she knew that she was touching him. Would she panic, if she realized?

Thoroughly flustered, Piccolo quickly ate the rest of his food, and was thankful that Lazuli left them in peace for the duration of the meal. She did reappear at the end, got entirely too close to Piccolo, and grabbed his water bottle. She knocked it back with one swift movement, and the hand which had been so pleasantly resting on Piccolo’s knee became rather fierce.

Piccolo twitched his antennae at Chi Chi, who was looking at Lazuli.

“Get your germs off of my bottle,” Piccolo hissed, grabbing for the water that the angel was currently stealing. Great—not only was she draining him of his life and general will to live, but now she had to go and do the same to his innocent water. Lazuli sneered at him, before flipping her hair, and dropping the empty water bottle into the trashcan.

“Sorry,” she swiped at her lips, “I was thirsty.” Her lidded eyes rolled in Chi Chi’s direction. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you two.” A small smile slid across Lazuli’s features, while Chi Chi’s lips puckered into an aggravated frown.

“Dammit, Lazuli,” Piccolo snapped his fangs together, and shooed at her.

“Just wanted to check up on things.” Lazuli gave him a pointed look. She soon was back to her normal, bored façade, though. She promptly walked over, and held her hand out. Already knowing what she wanted, Piccolo scoffed and tossed the phone to her. With the cell in hand, she happily disappeared once more.

“I can’t wait til she’s gone,” Piccolo groaned, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You two seem close,” Chi Chi said.

He gave her an aggravated look. “Hell, no. I’m stuck with her.” He heaved a sigh.

“Hm.” She had a strange look on her face, and she rose off of her stool. “Sorry. I guess I did kind of force my way in here… I think I upset your roommate.” She looked at the hall where Lazuli had disappeared down.

“Trust me, I’d much rather your company than hers,” Piccolo mumbled. His ears were not purple—or so he told himself.

Chi Chi seemed to immediately brighten at that, and hip-checked him as she walked past. It wasn’t likely that he would cum without direct stimulation, but that pushed his limits, just slightly. He folded his hands on the tabletop, and thought extensively about the sound that clipboards made.

“Okay, big boy. I’ll take your word on that. How ‘bout I see you tomorrow?” Piccolo nodded his head silently, and Chi Chi grinned. One corner of her mouth went up a little higher, and squished one of her eyes just slightly. He thought it was beautiful. “Nice.” She left then, leaving Piccolo to stomp back into his bedroom, where Lazuli was talking on the phone. Her legs were up in the air, and she was painting her toenails—no doubt with his money. If she could alter her clothes and appearance, why did she need to buy things?

“Hey—what the hell was with you chugging my water?” Piccolo snapped. Lazuli promptly turned her head to the side, and continued to talk on the phone. He could surmise that she was speaking with Krillin considering the way that she giggled.

He snarled, stormed over, and snatched the phone away from the angel.

“Hey—! Does cosmic, angelic powers get me no respect?” Lazuli griped, and sat up. She smeared nail polish onto his sheets. Piccolo could have breathed fire at that point as he quickly ended the phone call with Krillin. He glowered down in her direction. “Ugh, fine, I’ll get rid of it!” She waved an exasperated hand at the sheets, and the polish magically disappeared.

“The kitchen earlier. Care to explain.” Piccolo pressed his mouth into a grim line.

“Oh. Easy. I was making her jealous.” Lazuli smirked, and tossed her hair. “I’m an attractive young girl hanging around your apartment.” She was using that voice that always made Piccolo feel like a complete moron. “If she’s jealous, or thinks she has competition, she’s more likely to amp it up.”

Piccolo flushed. “You can’t—that’s not—she doesn’t—,”

“Wow. Real literary genius here. A regular Bill Dickens, huh?”

“Charles.”

“Listen, I didn’t exactly get much schooling when I was bouncing around between foster homes.” The look she gave him was rather frosty.

“Jesus…”

“Well, you’d think the Guy would be able to hook me up with some remedial lessons in the afterlife, but apparently not. No schooling, no insurance, and I get big green insufferable assholes to deal with—there’s absolutely no benefits to this job.” Lazuli scoffed, and plopped back down on the bed. “Anyways, did you manage to set up a second date?”

“No. Because Chi Chi and I aren’t dating.” Piccolo sat down beside Lazuli’s head, and glared down at her. “But she’s going to be coming over for dinner tomorrow.”

“Ha!” She smirked. “See, do I know what I’m doing or what?”

“Or what. Certainly.” Piccolo rubbed at his temples. “And you don’t get credit for that. She wasn’t jealous. Probably just confused on the half-naked woman wandering around stealing water.”

“Oh my God, let the water go. You have plenty! You’re not gonna die—well, not within the next two years anyways.”

“… the hell was that?”

Lazuli gave him a knowing look. “Guess you’ll never know. You ass. Now give me back the phone. Krillin and I were planning a movie outing.”

“You’re here to help me,” Piccolo protested.

“You didn’t want my help.”

“No, but that’s still why you’re here. I’m supposed to be dating, not you.”

“Hm. And doesn’t it say something about you that the dead girl gets more than you?”

Piccolo stood, snatched the edge of the blanket, and threw the entire thing over Lazuli. He heard shrieks of protest as he left the room and took his phone with him.

Lazuli was begrudgingly returned her phone privileges the next day, however, as she decided to wisely avoid Chi Chi and Piccolo’s dinner. Chi Chi showed up in another borrowed shirt—this time a baseball one. He didn’t recognize the team, as he didn’t know much for sports, but this seemed to be her normal attire. He wondered if she owned any shirts of her own.

As days bled into months, he was quite certain that Chi Chi did not, in fact, own any t-shirts. Everything she wore was one of her roommates’. They both seemed to be fairly athletic, and she said that she handled all of the laundry (something about a debacle where their entire apartment was flooded in suds) so she just took some off the top. It saved her money, and she didn’t much care about how she looked anyways. With all the cleaning she did around the house, she didn’t really want to wear any of her nicer clothes.

Piccolo also noticed there were days where she’d show up, looking slightly bedraggled and covered in motor oil. These were the days where he would sit through rants of how her father had talked her into coming back home (back aches, scoliosis, diabetes, arthritis, and pneumonia were the ones that Piccolo had already heard), only to immediately put her to work in the shop.

“I wanted to kick this dude’s tail lights out,” Chi Chi snarled as she tore voraciously into a sandwich. “I mean—asshole told me I wasn’t moving fast enough. I told him he needed Mud-B-Gone,” she smirked, and flicked her bangs out of her face, “and that idiot actually wrote down the brand and everything.”

Piccolo was a little embarrassed to admit that it took him a little bit too long to realize that Mud-B-Gone was not, in fact, a thing. He did not tell Chi Chi this, however, and kept it to himself that he couldn’t figure out what soap and water were.

Around October, Chi Chi’s meals took on the shape of little ghosts, and she started bringing themed drinks. He’d never had Pumpkin Spice anything before, and was disappointed that it didn’t taste as good as Chi Chi seemed to think it did. He did, however, accept pumpkin pie from her. It demolished his system, but he willingly put up with it. Not only for the taste, but because Chi Chi had hand made it for him.

He went up to the market on one of his days off, and was greeted by Chi Chi wearing a pointed witch hat, with little pumpkins dangling from her ears. She immediately sprang on him, with her customary “Hey!” and a soft punch on the shoulder.

“We just got a shipment of green beans in,” she said cheekily, earning her a scoff from Piccolo. “C’mon. Everybody knows eating lots of greens is what keeps you healthy.” She’d fluttered her eyelashes up at him leaving Piccolo a little light-headed as he’d hurriedly grabbed up random fruits that he didn’t even eat. For weeks after he was left staring disconsolately at a disgusting bundle of green grapes.

Lazuli refused to eat them, and claimed they served as a reminder for him to get better, and “suck a little less”. The most humiliating part of the whole debacle was when Chi Chi had asked him why he was letting the grapes go to waste, and he’d deigned to eat one in front of her, if only to appease her curiosity.

On Halloween night, Chi Chi had canceled their dinner plans, and was instead doing a trick-or-treat run with her roommates, and Goku’s little brother. Apparently, Chi Chi was so close to the little brother, that he had begged for her to attend—while Yamcha and a few friends had tagged along. He knew most of this through a text correspondence that was going on, where Chi Chi had sent him numerous pictures of her witch costume, and the little boy was always beside her in a superhero suit.

Around seven, they showed up at his doorstep, though Chi Chi had thankfully left the roommates in the car. She and the little boy stood there, and she shoved a bucket in his direction.

“Trick-or-treat!” She crowed, while the little boy followed her with a much more timid approach. His bucket was shaped like Batman, and he dug his toes into the concrete, looking very nervous. Piccolo was acutely aware of his own awkward height when next to two of the smallest people he knew.

Piccolo had fumbled for a moment, before snatching up the bundle of grapes, and splitting the bunch in two. He arrived back at the door, ignored Lazuli’s inquisitive looks, and stuffed the grapes into the waiting buckets. He glared down at either of them, as if daring to say anything negative about his treat.

“Gee, thanks,” the little boy had grinned up at him. “These are my favorite!” He’d then very politely told Piccolo that he liked his costume (“Mister that green paint job’s real nice!”) and had skipped back to the car where Piccolo could see the two roommates having what looked like an arm wrestling match in the front seat.

“You really don’t like these things, huh?” Chi Chi grinned.

Piccolo spluttered.

“Chill out, big guy. I know you never liked ‘em. It was real cute watching you scarf ‘em down, though.” She beamed upwards, and popped one in her mouth. “I told you, green’s the best. Even if you don’t think so.” She’d quickly taken off then, and Piccolo had stared, dumbfounded, as the car pulled away, and Lazuli eagerly swatted at his arm. He was certain she was hollering something about going home, but he couldn’t be bothered to care.

When November arrived, it was still relatively hot, and Chi Chi maintained her normal attire. She complained very loudly that Goku and Yamcha didn’t feel the cold, and thus she always froze during the winter, since the two only owned t-shirts. It had taken Piccolo a week or two of visits to feel comfortable enough to offer her one of his long-sleeved shirts. She’d gladly accepted, though unfortunately his shirt was so large on her that it hung down to her knees, with the collar exposing quite a bit of cleavage.

Piccolo pretended not to look.

While she wouldn’t take his shirt, she had invited him to go shopping with her. He’d been baffled at first, but had been quickly talked into coming along by Lazuli, who had been invisible during the exchange, and had taken to whispering fiercely in his ear.

After he’d been questioned extensively about why his ear kept twitching (“Do you need to go to the doctor? Are you sure? That doesn’t look right. Can Nameks go to human doctors? Do you have special doctor? Do you have a special Namek Ear doctor?”) Piccolo had swatted away an imaginary fly, aka Lazuli’s face, and had finally agreed to go with her.

Lazuli unfortunately opted to tag along, as Krillin was apparently on duty for the day. Piccolo and Lazuli showed up at the mall, though Lazuli chose to remain invisible. She said that Chi Chi was kind of jealous, but that if it went too far, then she’d probably give up entirely, or think that Piccolo was playing her. Piccolo personally thought all of that was stupid and moronic, but wasn’t able to lecture her, as Chi Chi had finally arrived.

He was so used to her now that it was a little pathetic that he could still get enraptured by the sway of her hips and the way her bun hung by the nape of her neck. The way that her soft eyes always lighted on him, and her loud shout of “hey!” startled several passersby customers. He almost felt himself smile back at her, but managed to keep some of his wits about him.

Even if she did look resplendent with one of her eyes resembling a raccoon.

“I fell asleep,” she admitted, jabbing one finger towards the charcoal mess. “My eyeliner went everywhere. Trust me, this is after damage control.” She sighed regretfully, but Piccolo had to chomp down on telling her she was beautiful. Anyone that could clothesline someone and still look gorgeous was perfect in every way.

“Let’s get going,” he grumbled. They took to the shops, with Piccolo attempting to look less threatening. He’d never really been to a mall—perhaps once or twice in his misguided youth, if only to aggravate people. He had always shopped online, or, when he was much younger, his father had always brought home clothes for him. He could feel the burn of peoples’ eyes on him, though, and it didn’t help that Lazuli kept jabbing him in the back and ordering him to look less awkward.

Chi Chi was rifling through some long-sleeved shirts, when she gave Piccolo a cursory glance.

“If only you were more fashion inclined,” she bemoaned.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a grown man. In pajamas.”

“They’re not pajamas,” he argued, crossing his arms over his large chest. “Sweat pants are perfectly acceptable attire.”

“They’re purple.”

He shrugged. “It’s the best color.”

“Hm. You think so?” Chi Chi gave a critical glance to a blue sweater she had in her hand. “Personally, I like reds.” She put the sweater back, and grabbed a red and black striped ensemble. She muttered to herself about sizing, and different styles. He wondered, fleetingly, why he’d been invited in the first place. He wasn’t exactly being helpful, nor was he particularly good at conversation. And—hell, she’d said it herself, he wasn’t the best at fashion. As much as he loathed to admit it, his comfortable clothes presumably weren’t the best looking. Lazuli had referred to him as an eggplant once, and rudely referred to his neck as the stem.

“She invited you because she wants to spend time with you!” Lazuli huffed, and tossed her hair. It was very hard not to look at someone who was speaking to you—but Piccolo was getting pretty good at it.

“C’mon, stop being an ass.”

Piccolo didn’t reply, and instead stooped his way along the line of clothes. He squinted, and picked up a purple shirt. It was boring and plain, with a simple v-neck. It was nothing spectacular, but he felt

Chi Chi behind him.

“It’s boring,” he’d grumbled, more to himself than her, and had attempted to shove it back on the rack. Chi Chi halted him, though, and grabbed his wrist. He felt his pulse jump, and his ears pinned themselves back against his head. He sucked in a breath, and looked slowly down, where Chi Chi was pursing her lips in thought.

“I like it,” she decided, and pulled it out of his grasp, and draped it over her arm. “I’ve never tried purple, maybe I’ll like it? It doesn’t seem to be that bad of a color, anyways.” She winked, and headed back over to continue her search. Piccolo took a moment to calm himself down. It had been nothing. Surely, she touched lots of people on the wrist? He knew for a fact that her arm was always draped around one of her roommates in the picture. That was all.

Once he’d collected himself, Chi Chi was ready to go to the dressing room. She instructed him to sit on the bench outside of the little rooms, and so he waited with Lazuli. Since he couldn’t talk aloud with her, he would type out a message on his phone, and have her respond accordingly out loud.

“You know she has the hots for you, right?”

**I doubt that.**

“I’m serious. I’m a professional.”

**Name one professional thing you have done since you came to Earth**

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

**Have guardian angels murdered before?**

“Sorry, that’s classified.”

**I’m beginning to think that’s what you say whenever you don’t have an answer.**

“More like it’s what I say when you’re an insufferable ass.”

He quickly pocketed his phone, however, as Chi Chi exited the room. She had a bundle of clothes separated, and deposited one of the piles onto a spare rack. She paid, and they took their leave. He stared at the smoothie shop for a second too long, and Chi Chi was soon dragging him over there. They sat at the food court, and while Piccolo was not entirely happy with the prospect, he covertly let Lazuli take sips from his drink. She assured him that angels didn’t have germs, seeing as they were dead, but that really didn’t comfort him like it should have.

“It’s been too long since daddy called me home last,” Chi Chi sighed, slurping at her smoothie. “I can feel it in the air. It’s getting close to Thanksgiving, too.”

Piccolo said something noncommittal to that. He didn’t really celebrate any holidays—at least none that humans recognized. Nail had already been harassing him at the gym to prepare for them.   
Something about humans losing morale whenever the holidays and cold weather hit. While he understood the weather (what with his own cooler internal temperature and need for sunlight), the holiday thing baffled him.

Chi Chi frowned, then, and gave Piccolo a disturbed look. “If I have to go home for the holidays, who’s going to feed you?”

“Oddly enough, I’ve managed for the past twenty-two years of my life to feed myself.” Piccolo gave her a rather bland look. In return, he got the finger.

“I’m serious… hey, why don’t you come with me?”

“Come… with you?”

“Yeah! For dinner with daddy! Usually Goku and Yamcha come with, but this year they’re going to visit Yamcha’s family. It’s apparently been awhile since he’s gone back home, and he didn’t want to go alone. But there’s no way in hell daddy would forgive me if I didn’t go see him.”

Piccolo felt something hard form in his gut. He wasn’t good with parents. Or families. Or really any social interaction. It was really a miracle that he’d managed to maintain any sort of friendship with Chi Chi. The closest he had before that was Nail—and potentially Vegeta. Though, that was more of a passing acquaintance. After all, Piccolo Senior used to work for Freeza, Vegeta’s adopted father. They’d known of each other’s existence for years, and had been nonetheless surprised to see one another at Nail’s gym.

“Daddy n’ me always make too much food anyways,” Chi Chi sighed. “And I know you won’t eat most of it, but I’ll make sure you get some stuff that’s safe for you.” She was grinning, eyes wide as she seemingly planned it out in her head. “I’ll even drive you out there, how’s that?”

Piccolo opened his mouth, and shut it.

“Gotcha. I’ll give you more details later.” She said this with a firm little nod, and went back to her smoothie. Piccolo stared, stupefied.

“Still think you’re not dating?” Lazuli drawled.

Piccolo hadn’t really been given a choice in the matter, but he found that this often happened with Chi Chi. He also found that he didn’t particularly mind it for some reason. Perhaps it was that he’d always been infatuated with her, or Lazuli’s insistence that he hurry this along so she could go home, but the pushing that Chi Chi did almost always turned out favorably.

Because that’s what Chi Chi did. She pushed. And she pushed her way into every aspect of Piccolo’s life until he wasn’t even entirely aware of it. It wasn’t long before, on top of her nightly visits, he was introduced to Gohan, who was a rather large part of her life. Even though he was Goku’s younger brother, she had known Goku her whole life, and thus felt rather dearly about the little boy. She’d explained that she had been an only child, and had been pretty miserable until she was around eleven, when Goku had moved in next door.

“I used to have a crush on him,” she’d admitted one night over a popcorn bowl. “Can you believe it?”

“I can’t,” Gohan had said solemnly, shaking his head. He was sitting rather close to Piccolo. The little boy apparently had a fondness for Piccolo that couldn’t be explained. Piccolo had neither said nor done anything to the child, other than to give him food occasionally, and yet the boy clung tight to his side. It had been rocky after their second meeting, when Gohan had come to the realization that the green skin was, in fact, not make-up.

Unfortunately, he found that he didn’t exactly hate the child. Lazuli lectured him about getting side-tracked, but he’d grown fond of the kid coming over. He wouldn’t expressly say this, of course, but he would allow Gohan to sit beside him on the couch, or to eat directly from his plate (something that no one had ever done, barring Lazuli, who he couldn’t physically stop).

Gohan had been rather disheartened to hear that Chi Chi and Piccolo would be going elsewhere for Thanksgiving, but Piccolo had given the boy a rather gruff head-pat—like his father had given him when he was young—and told him he’d be fine. Gohan had peered up at him with shimmering eyes, before throwing his arms wide and enveloping Piccolo in a hug.

Piccolo said nothing aloud, but his heart did skip a beat, before he quickly pulled away. He coughed, and shoved roughly at the boy, telling him to get going.

Then he, Chi Chi, and Lazuli ended up in Chi Chi’s Honda Civic.

“This is the most mom car I’ve ever been in,” Lazuli whined from the back. Piccolo sneered in her direction, but was careful not to hold it for too long lest Chi Chi realize what he was doing.

“I’m finally going to get to wear those sweaters this weekend,” Chi Chi said cheerfully. “I haven’t really been able to wear them, what with the warm weather. But daddy lives up in the mountains, and we’re finally getting a cold front.” She’d sighed in relief. Then she’d turned to him, and jabbed him in the ribs. “Now buckle up, mister, or this car doesn’t go anywhere.”

Piccolo strapped in the seatbelt with a roll of his eyes. He didn’t understand why she ca—

Piccolo’s thoughts had been interrupted by the feeling of his heart in his throat, and the mild concussion he suffered when his head smashed into the window.

“Told ya to buckle up!” Chi Chi said, her foot pressed to the floor board as she whipped around corners like a maniac. Piccolo had tried to protest, his hand latched onto the oh-shit handle as he was promptly thrown the entirely other direction. Now that he knew Chi Chi drove like a speed demon, he could better prepare himself. From the backseat, he could hear Lazuli squawking like a bird as her wings were jammed in different directions.

She’d caught him grinning at her, and she’d promptly kicked him in the face. To cover it up, Piccolo had to pretend to hit his head against the window. Again. Chi Chi didn’t seem perturbed by all of this, and instead hunkered her shoulders forward, and accelerated more the closer they got to the mountain, which was fast approaching. By the time they’d crested the little wooded area, where a cabin could be seen smoking merrily, Piccolo was ready to vomit.

Chi Chi pulled into the gravel drive, and Piccolo gratefully clambered out. He dropped to his knees, and thought briefly of hurling.

“I think I might believe in God now,” he gagged, and saw that Lazuli was in a similar state beside him.

“Really? Because after that I think I question why he’d let something like that happen.” She’d fluttered helplessly upwards, though her flight was certainly wobbly. Piccolo had struggled to his knees, while Chi Chi bounced eagerly around to stand beside him. Her bright orange shirt made his already pulsing head-ache even worse.

“C’mon, big boy, it wasn’t that bad.” She rolled her eyes demonstratively, and crossed her arms over her chest. Piccolo wanted to puke on her.

“You drive like a maniac,” he’d grated out.

“I do not!”

“Chi Chi… you pulled out in front of a semi.”

“We had to get here!”

“He had the right of way.”

“Okay, but he was being slow.”

“They have to turn wide…”

“You didn’t die did you?”

“The train—,”

“The train missed us by at least foot. Honestly, Piccolo, you’re being dramatic.”

He groaned, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He glanced around, and was able to actually take in the scenery now that it wasn’t all a horrific blur of woodland. The solitary cabin stood there, the smell of firewood clear. It was nothing special—just a little cottage style place, with wood stacked up outside, and a huge ax lodged firmly into a stump. There seemed to be nothing for miles, though, aside from wildlife.

“I thought you and your roommate grew up together?”

“Oh, yeah. He lived about six miles up with his grandpa.” Chi Chi pointed in some vague location that meant absolutely nothing to Piccolo. He stared, bewildered at her.

“You said you were neighbors?”

Chi Chi popped the trunk, and started grabbing their bags. “I mean—the closest neighbor, aside from the bears.” She stuffed his overnight bag into his hands. “The closest people aside from him was… oh, hell, I don’t even remember. But they’re all down in town. It was just me n’ daddy up here.”

Piccolo was mystified by all of this. Piccolo Senior had always lived in a rather large, ornate mansion, in the city. He had to be close to Freeza and the rest of his partners to do business. After the old man had died, Piccolo had gone to live with his uncle, where there was a small seclusion of houses all inhabited by Namekians. Kami was a religious figure, and thus had lived through the aid of donations. All of it was non-profit as well, and the government had afforded him a small little plot outside of his church.

“All right, let’s go inside to daddy.” Chi Chi took off, and Piccolo slowly followed. Lazuli remained close by, though even she looked a bit wary.

“I’m not good with parents,” she warned.

“You n’ me both,” he grumbled. Chi Chi didn’t hear him, as she knocking open the door. That was also strange to Piccolo. You didn’t do business with Freeza and keep your door unlocked.

“Daddy! We’re here!”

Piccolo wasn’t sure what, exactly, he’d been expecting. Someone small like Chi Chi—that was certain. He figured her father would be about 5’5”, at most, or maybe even six feet, if he was lucky. But when he stepped into the rustic little cottage, and Piccolo had to have a staring contest with another man’s chest… well, that was certainly something that had never happened.

For once in his life, Piccolo had to crane his neck to look at someone’s face.

He found the thought very intimidating, and wondered if this is how everyone else felt around him.

The man was humongous. Not only was he taller than Piccolo, he also outranked him in size. He had a flannel shirt stretched taught across his chest, and his skin was dark with scars and calloused hands.   
His face was heavily lined, with a large, wiry beard that hugged his chin. He wore glasses perched on the end of his nose, and his dark brows were lowered heavily over his eyes.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Chi Chi’s father’s voice was loud and booming, just as impressive as the rest of him was. He stooped down, scooping his small daughter up into his arms. He held her tightly, and Piccolo had a fearful moment where he thought that Chi Chi’s spine would be snapped.

“What the fuck…” Lazuli seemed just as startled as he was. “What the hell are genetics?”

Piccolo didn’t have an answer for her, and he was personally having to calm himself down. He was not used to someone being larger than him, and he didn’t know how to react. Sure, he was bad with parents, but there wasn’t a dad or mom on this Earth that he couldn’t knock flat on their ass without breaking a sweat. Well, except for Chi Chi’s dad, apparently.

This big fucker wouldn’t go down even if Piccolo had a bulldozer.

“Hey there, sonny.” The man had turned to Piccolo now, and Chi Chi was safely on the floor. She was grinning, and Piccolo stared in abject distrust as her father extended a warm hand in his direction.

“I… I think you’re supposed to shake it,” Lazuli whispered, gaze fierce. “Parents like a firm handshake, or something like that?”

Neither of them really had parents, though, and thus they were both a little baffled. Deciding that there was nothing really to lose, Piccolo slowly put out his own hand. Chi Chi’s father grasped it, almost breaking Piccolo’s fingers in the process, before he slammed a cajoling hand down on Piccolo’s shoulder. His knees buckled at the force—and Christ Piccolo was not used to this.

“You’re a little cold, boy!” the man let out a cheerful laugh, and swatted Piccolo again, almost dropping him to the floor. Between Chi Chi’s driving, and her father’s friendliness, Piccolo wasn’t going to live through the night.

“That’s how his species is,” Chi Chi spoke up.

“I see, I see… well, boy, name’s Ox. Nice to meet ya.”

“Piccolo,” he said. He’d pulled his hand back, and was attempting to rub it in a rather inconspicuous way. He wasn’t going to let Ox know that he’d hurt him. No way in hell was he going to show that kind of weakness on a first meeting.

“All right, daddy, you said you already had the turkey going, right? Did you get the groceries I asked you to?” Chi Chi’s voice was clipped and crisp.

“I did, hon,” Ox confirmed. “They’re all sittin’ in there.” He gave a sheepish shrug as he looked in Piccolo’s directions. “I’ll be honest, boy, I ain’t heard of the things you need to eat. I’m leavin’ that to Chi there.”

A nickname. Piccolo frowned. He felt very out of place.

“Okay, I’m going to get to making Piccolo’s dishes. Give me an hour or two. Why don’t you show Piccolo around, get him comfortable? We’ll be staying the night.” Chi Chi turned fierce. “Don’t forget. We have to be up by four in the morning, so no late nights, okay?”

Piccolo nodded mutely, and watched as Chi Chi disappeared.

He was left alone with Ox, who had shuffled off to go rustling around in a drawer. Piccolo glanced around, and saw that Lazuli was floating around as well, observing things with her typical detached fashion. She did, however, stay clear of where Ox was.

The house was well-lived in, and that was odd. Every surface was covered in something. There were pictures of Chi Chi, Goku, and Gohan. Several pictures of Chi Chi as a child were plastered across the walls. He was slightly pleased to see that some of them were, indeed, her working on cars, her elbows and coveralls coated in grease and oil. Others were of her and her father fishing—one had Goku jumping off the edge of a cliff. A few had baby Gohan posed with them in Christmas photos. All around him were memories, and it was bizarre.

Piccolo’s house with Piccolo Senior had been devoid of anything that wasn’t for show. There was no material possessions out on display. Anything that showed emotion was weakness, and that meant it could be exploited. After all, if someone were to break into this house, they would immediately know who and what Ox cherished. It was dangerous, to do something like this. Having everything visible meant you were asking for others to take advantage of you. Even when he’d left that environment, staying with Kami meant that everything was devoutly religious. Everything was for the sake of Porunga (who, Piccolo realized now, presumably didn’t exist if Lazuli were proof. He kind of wanted to tell Kami that his whole life had been for nothing). If you clung too tightly to memories, then you could not reach enlightenment.

And yet… Piccolo found the cottage almost nice.

He saw coasters that Chi Chi had made, her little hand having imprinted onto them. There were collections of old turtle shells, snake skins, and even one odd medical bill that he couldn’t read taped to the ceiling with a gold star on it. As he shifted a bit closer, he saw something about Son Goku, and decided he didn’t care.

“Ah, sorry, boy,” Ox stomped over, a big grin on his face. “I had to get my keys. I wanted to show you me n’ Chi Chi’s baby.” He eagerly waved Piccolo on, and led him through the house. Piccolo followed, seeing as he had nothing else to do. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, and almost shuddered at the chill that had set in not long after he and Chi Chi had arrived.

They stood in a garage, with poor insulation. There was a bench overflowing with tools and grime. All around the floor spare parts were littered, and random things that he couldn’t identify. Again, there was random pieces of memorabilia scattered throughout. In the center, though, was where Ox was clearly drawing Piccolo’s attention.

A blue tarp covered something small and misshapen. Ox drew it off with a flourish, and Piccolo was greeted with what was possibly the ugliest car he’d ever seen in his life. Ox was beaming, however, and kept petting the hood of the car like it was a living thing.

“A Gremlin,” Ox explained. “Me n’ Chi found this down at a dump when she was real little. Teeny tiny, y’know? She fell in love with it. Ever since, we’ve been workin’ on it. I say it’s our baby, but really its hers. She’s been trying to get the damned thing running for over a decade now.” His laughter boomed around the garage, and Piccolo gave the thing a more critical look.

Even for someone as car-challenged as he was, the thing was a monstrosity. It looked small and cramped—really, only someone Chi Chi’s size would be comfortable in it. The paint looked fairly new, though it had been painted a rather garish red. This, more than anything, identified it as Chi Chi’s. There was a dragon sticker smacked on the back of it, and the license plate was clearly a fake, decorative one that read ‘FITE-ME’.

“She’s real pretty, ain’t she?” Ox looked so proud he might cry, and Piccolo could feel some of the fear he’d had for the man melt away. He seemed exceptionally soft.

Piccolo crossed his arms, and tilted his head. “It’s something.”

“Ain’t it!” Ox seemed to have misunderstood exactly what Piccolo had meant, and instead opted to clap him on the shoulder once more. Piccolo did slip this time, and knocked his knee against the Gremlin. He cursed, but Ox didn’t seem to mind, and instead led Piccolo back inside.

“I feel like I’m in an alternate universe,” Lazuli mumbled. She had been uncharacteristically silent. She hadn’t even bothered to demand to see Piccolo’s phone. For once he actually felt a sense of kinship with Lazuli. Neither of them had the best living conditions as children—and he could only guess at what hers had been.

She had moved to sit on the couch, still staring around her.

“C’mon, boy, I’ll show you the rest of the house. You’ll be in the spare bedroom back here.”

The spare bedroom, as it was, had apparently been Goku’s old room. The walls were covered in martial artist posters, and action movies spilled onto the floor. There were a few drawings, and a few report cards boasting a straight D student.

“It was easier for him to stay here most nights,” Ox admitted sheepishly as he moved some of the stuff to the side. “His grandpa was real old, and was having trouble taking care of him.”  
Piccolo furrowed his brow. “What about Gohan? That’s his little brother, isn’t it? Where are his parents?”

Ox sighed. “Yeah. Goku’s parents didn’t want to be parents, so they passed it along to grandpa. Once he died, they brought little Gohan here. He was raised with us.” The large man shuffled in, and scooped up the blankets and sheets. “I’ll make sure to wash these before we turn in for the night.” He then exited the room, stopped to toss the bundle of fabric in the laundry room, and then continued with the tour.

Piccolo was led into Ox’s room, which the man proclaimed was ‘nothing special’, and that was true. There was nothing noteworthy in it, other than a few pictures knocked face down on top of his dresser. Piccolo wasn’t able to question him, though, as he was soon shown the bathroom, and finally, Chi Chi’s room.

“Now, I don’t know how she feels about you goin’ in there, but she’s never been a real secretive girl.” Ox shrugged. “But I figured you’d wanna know where it was, so you don’t stumble in there at night.” He gave Piccolo a pointed look, and Piccolo kept his face neutral. Inside, he wondered what the hell he did to deserve that face—one that bordered on suspicious. He wasn’t so stupid that he would accidentally end up in Chi Chi’s room. The bathroom wasn’t even in the same area of the hall.

Piccolo did see just a small bit of the room as they went past. He could see a manikin in a white dress, and pictures of a lady that he didn’t recognize… though she looked a lot like Chi Chi. He stared at Ox’s back, and realized that it must be Chi Chi’s mother. Humans did have those, he recalled.

Ox brought him back into the living room, where they sat on the sofa. Piccolo felt incredibly awkward, though he didn’t show it, while Ox seemed oblivious to it all. The large man talked enough for the two of them, and Piccolo could relax, occasionally typing out something to Lazuli if he needed to.

“Daddy, did you turn on the game?” Chi Chi stuck her head in the living room. Piccolo turned to look at her, and she winked while her father was fumbling with the remote.   
“Just turned it on, princess!” Ox glared at the screen. “Don’t get too excited. West City Dragons are losing.”

Chi Chi cursed. “Are you kidding! Already?”

Piccolo stared, baffled, at the screen. He turned to Lazuli for help, but she merely shrugged.

“I know absolutely nothing about sports. Talk to me when they get into competitive arcade games.”

Piccolo didn’t think that existed, but Lazuli had returned to checking her nails.

“Ugh… hey! Piccolo, c’mere. I could use your help reaching stuff.”

“I could come in there—,” Ox spoke as Piccolo began to rise up from his seat.

Chi Chi frowned. “Daddy… we talked about this. It had to happen sometime.”

“I know, princess, but…” Ox trailed off, before dropping his chin miserably into his hand.

Piccolo shuffled into the kitchen, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. The smell of food assaulted his nostrils. “Why couldn’t your father help you?” he asked, glancing around.

“Because, big boy, I wanted your company.” She gave him that cheeky grin, and hip checked him as she went by. He needed to petition for that to be illegal. He wondered if Lazuli could have any sway over   
Krillin. Local Girl Keeps Touching Alien with Her Hip: New Law in Order. He grimaced. He was losing what little bit of sanity he had.

The kitchen was, again, covered. He wondered how anybody got anything done with stuff everywhere. The fridge was decked to the nines with old coloring book pages, scribble, papers, and grades. Chi Chi didn’t seem to mind, though, as she swiftly navigated around everything with practiced ease.

“So, did daddy show you around? —grab that out of the top shelf, would you?”

“He did. I saw your car.”

“Oh? How’d you—no, other cabinet—how’d you like it, huh?”

“It’s hideous.”

“Thank-you—and no, it’s not!” She turned a rather fierce glare on him. “I’ll have you know that I’m going to get that thing up and running, and I will gladly drive you around in it. Then you’ll see.”

“All I’ll see is my lunch leaving my stomach,” Piccolo protested. “With your driving, even if you fix the thing it’ll be wrecked in a week.”

“How rude!” Chi Chi slammed her pot down, and gave a loud sniff. “There’s nothing wrong with my driving. Daddy taught me perfectly well, I’ll have you know.”  
Piccolo realized that every time Chi Chi texted him, she was not the one behind the wheel. Even when she came by his house sometimes, she was dropped off by Goku or Yamcha. When she left work, as well, one of those two usually picked her up. He wondered, now, if that was a conscious effort on their part to keep such a menace off the road. A rather commendable act of bravery for them both.

“If you’re saying your father drives like you, that’s not reassuring.”

“I don’t drive like her,” Ox called from the living room, sounding rather mutinous. “But my darling girl drives perfectly fine!”

“Thanks, daddy!” Chi Chi turned a triumphant grin on him. “See? Told you.”

“I agree with you, green bean!” Lazuli yelled. Piccolo would have thanked her, except for her vote didn’t do him any good considering that she wasn’t technically there for these people. Of course, the invisible angel took his side.

With his argument lost, Piccolo resigned himself to be of use to Chi Chi, until Thanksgiving dinner was done. She disappeared shortly after the food was ready, instructing her father to go change into his ‘best’—whatever that meant. They both left him alone in the kitchen, where he and Lazuli took turns playing tic-tac-toe on his phone. She was beating him thoroughly, when he quickly tucked in his phone in his pocket. Ox had arrived back in the room.

He wore a nice button up dress shirt, with a completely different pair of suspenders—these were shiny and black, with no stains on them. His pants were nice and dark as well, with no holes or oil. His hair and beard looked like he’d attempted to brush them, but they just jutted out at rather unfortunate angles. He had washed his face, though, and plopped down in the chair on the opposite end from Piccolo.

Chi Chi entered then, and Piccolo stared. Her hair—which he’d only seen in buns—was now hanging down around her shoulders. Her bangs were combed and neat, with the long, inky black hair hanging down to the middle of her back. She wore the purple long-sleeved shirt that Piccolo had gotten her, and the v-neck turned out to be a lovely thing. Even for someone who was not endowed up top, it still showed up enough to make Piccolo short-circuit. And of course—of course—she’d only ever worn khakis around him. But now, she wore nice, dark jeans that hugged her large hips and thighs perfectly.

He gulped.

Ox coughed, very loudly, as Chi Chi came and sat at the last remaining chair.

“Want some water, Piccolo?” She was smiling, but Piccolo was having a hard time recognizing her. He was used to a loud, brazen woman yelling at him in frumpy clothes. He didn’t know how to deal with a Chi Chi in tight clothes, using facial expressions he’d never seen. There wasn’t a raccoon eye in sight, only immaculately done dark lines, and a slight pink glimmer on her lips.

“Yeah, boy, you look a little thirsty.” Ox was glowering at him, and Chi Chi rolled her eyes.

Piccolo grabbed his glass, and took a small sip. “I’m fine,” he muttered.

Chi Chi couldn’t stop grinning, and she started doling out food. Through the whole meal, she always made sure that Piccolo’s plate didn’t have an empty inch left on it. He wasn’t allowed to leave the table until he’d eaten enough to satisfy Chi Chi. She treated him like he was a malnourished youth, constantly throwing the vegan alternatives onto his plate.

Ox seemed upset through the meal, but he was still sort of polite. He wasn’t as nice or as jovial as he had been earlier, but Piccolo couldn’t pinpoint why. Lazuli was sitting beside him, sighing dramatically at different intervals. Piccolo couldn’t find an interval, though, where he could slip her food. Between Chi Chi monitoring his every calorie, and Ox’s aggravated stare, he couldn’t catch a break.

Lazuli didn’t seem too perturbed. Just bored, as she repeatedly told him.

“I’ll sneak food when everyone’s gone to bed,” she said. “If Chi Chi doesn’t shove it all down your throat.”

He finally did escape, though, but not completely. Ox had insisted that they both stay and help Chi Chi with both the dishes, and clean-up in general. Not having a good argument, he’d begrudgingly staid. After Ox’s eighth yawn, though, he was banished by Chi Chi. She yelled at him until he took off for bed.

“You’ll have to forgive daddy,” Chi Chi sighed, and Piccolo was still staring at her. She was completely transformed—and he had never been more attracted to a pair of thighs in his life. “He’s sad that his little girl’s growing up.”

“You’ve been grown for a while,” Piccolo snorted. “It’s a little late for that.”

“That’s not what I mean—ahh, it’s not important.” Now that was very unlike Chi Chi. She’d just finished the last dish, and was drying her hands off on a towel. “Hey.” It was soft, unlike her normal, boisterous shout. He wondered if it was because of her sleeping father, but she was moving so close to him. He had been leaning up against the counter, but now he regretted it, as there was nowhere to run. She drew close to him, and her head tilted back.

“Yes?”

“Thanks for coming with me. I really was going to be a little lonely without Goku or Gohan, and you saved my bacon.” Her lips looked very soft, and what little cleavage she had was presented very nicely from his height. He wanted to punch himself in the face—or possibly have her punch him, while dressed like that. The thought excited him more than it should have.

He thanked whichever god was real—be they dragon or not—that he had mastered his poker face at a very young age.

“You’d better get some rest,” Chi Chi said, and her hand was laced around his. He hadn’t even realized that she’d grabbed them. All he knew was that her hands had little callouses on them, and they felt nice against his fingers. “We might have to elbow a bitch in the face in a few hours.”

Piccolo actually snorted from laughter, before clamping his jaw shut out of horror.

“Oh, my god.” Chi Chi stared at him, jaw hanging low. “Oh. My. God. You do laugh!” She crowed and slapped him across the chest. “That was perfect!”

Piccolo could feel mortification seeping in as his face colored violently. Chi Chi paused in her whooping. She grimaced, and shook him by the shoulder.

“Hey, c’mon. I didn’t mean to laugh at you. It’s a good thing.” She shoved him once more, and he turned an irate glare in her direction. “You should laugh more. It was cute, big guy. Not everything has to be so serious all the time.” She scraped her knuckles along arm, and turned away, her long hair swaying behind her. “Seriously, though. Get some rest.” She left him alone then, and Lazuli immediately fluttered over to the kitchen, where she dove into the Styrofoam cartons.

“Dude. She wants to bang you. I don’t know why you can’t see it.” Lazuli bit at a piece of turkey, her half-lidded eyes giving him the most neutral look. Piccolo snapped his fangs at her.

He only had a small window of opportunity to sleep, and he took advantage of it by—not sleeping. He was too caught up in a Chi Chi that didn’t look like Chi Chi, and him being stupid enough to actually laugh in front of her. He glared at the ceiling, and tried not to think of all the things that hadn’t gone per plan at this meal.

Whatever genial feelings Ox had had at the beginning of the meal were long gone now, and Piccolo wasn’t sure what had happened. He didn’t know what he could have done. Chi Chi had given that weird spiel about her growing up—but he didn’t know how he was to blame for that. Someone aging was not his fault. That was like blaming Piccolo for global warming.

He’d dozed off for maybe thirty minutes, when he was rudely awoken by Chi Chi. The raccoon eyes were back, and her hair was thrown back up into its customary bun. She was wearing a jacket she’d obviously pilfered out of Piccolo’s bag, and hastily threw his backup jacket at him. While not khakis, she was out of her nice jeans, and instead was wearing baggy plaid pajama bottoms.  
In less than an hour, they were down in town, and still were the fiftieth customer there. Piccolo popped open the camping chairs that Chi Chi had borrowed from Ox, and the two huddled down into their seats. The cold front was hellacious, and it had to hit on the night that sales were going to happen. Because, unfortunately, these were the things that Piccolo found himself doing now.

Never mind that he’d never attended a sale in general (unless you counted stealing something from another kid that you beat up a sale. Which, arguably, it was), he now found himself outside of a Toys-R-Us, fangs chattering together as he sat with Chi Chi.

“Okay, so,” Chi Chi breathed out, and withdrew a piece of paper from her pocket, “I got daddy to get me a current map of the store’s layout. He asked a few workers, but apparently, these pallets are coming out at random. So, we’re going to have to wing it once we’re in there. Here’s the sales paper, I’ve highlighted everything that Gohan wants. Make sure you’re keeping an eye out especially for anything circled in red. Red is critical, Yellow is high, green is wanted, and blue is leave it if there’s a scuffle. I put a key down at the bottom in case you get confused.”

Piccolo stared at the paper in front of him.

“This can’t be necessary,” he grumbled.

“I’m sorry, but unless you have millions of dollars sitting around somewhere, we’ve got to get these sales.” Chi Chi huffed at him, but Piccolo gave her a curious look.

“I do.”

“That’s what I thou—what?”

“I do have millions of dollars.” Piccolo shrugged.  
Chi Chi stared at him, her jaw practically hanging to the ground. For once he wished Lazuli was present, to tell him what he’d done wrong. She had opted to stay at home, though, claiming that the cold was bad for her wings. She’d said that she had complete and utter faith in Piccolo, though, that he would somehow ruin another opportunity. It had been rather rude, but not entirely untrue.

“You have… you’re messing with me!”

“I’m not,” Piccolo snarled. “After my dad died I got all of his money.”

Chi Chi blinked. “Oh your… your dad’s dead?”

Piccolo shrugged. “Don’t look so scared. It’s not like it’s a big deal. He died when I was younger.”

“I’m sorry.”

Piccolo snorted. “He wasn’t a nice guy, Chi Chi. There’s nothing to feel sorry about. He used to be involved in the mafia and plenty of terrible things.”

“Oh… well, so was daddy.” Chi Chi said this all very easily, and Piccolo had to double-take.

“What?”

“Mhm.” Chi Chi rubbed her hands together, attempting to get some feeling back in her fingers. “Daddy worked with the mafia, until he met my mom. He said meeting her changed his life.” Her smile grew wistful. “I never met her—at least, not that I can remember. He wasn’t a particularly big member, just someone low-level that they used to hunt down other people. They monitor him, and make sure he doesn’t tell any confidential material. Even I don’t know much about it. But apparently, my mother was ‘the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen’.” She snorted. “It’s corny but… it’s nice.”

Piccolo actually felt like he could kind of relate to Ox for once. He glanced down at his lap.

“Did you ever join?”

“No,” Piccolo answered. “I messed around on the streets when I was younger, though.” He found he didn’t mind telling Chi Chi. “Stealing, fighting, the like.”

Chi Chi frowned. “Huh… you always seem so calm, I can’t really imagine you doing anything like that.”

“I wasn’t always calm,” he replied. “I had a bit of an ego. I hated my life, with both my father and uncle.” He sunk into his lawn chair and yawned. “What better way to take care of my own misfortune then by beating the snot out of some punk kids?”

Chi Chi looked very much as if she disagreed, but didn’t press the issue.

“So did your dad teach you how to fight?”

“Huh?”

“The first day I recognized you,” Piccolo muttered, hoping the darkness was covering his flushed cheeks, “you took down that robber.”

“Robber… oh!” Chi Chi laughed, and tucked her arms inside of her borrowed jacket. She’d pulled her legs up to sit crisscross. “Kind of. I had a lot of muscle built up from helping daddy around the house. Working on cars, carrying the lumber, normal stuff.” He didn’t want to be the one to tell her that it was certainly not normal. “Then, I met Goku, and he always wanted to fight. I didn’t know how, though, so he wouldn’t play with me. I got pretty upset, and demanded that daddy teach me something. After that, I learned a lot from Goku.”

“I see. You’re pretty close.” Piccolo felt what was definitely jealousy burning in his stomach. Now he saw why Lazuli tried to use it against Chi Chi. It was a horrendous feeling. He knew, however, that for it to work you had to have feelings. So all Lazuli did was walk around unnecessarily in his apartment, and steal his goddamned water.

“I guess we are,” Chi Chi agreed, then shrugged. “But, he’s like a brother to me. I’m going after my ambition of being a wife.” She fluttered her lashes. “Y’know?”

“I suppose,” Piccolo said, mystified.

“So—back to this million dollars’ thing. Why do you even work?”

“It’s easy,” Piccolo replied with a shrug. “I like my small apartment since it’s just me—,”

“You and Lazuli,” Chi Chi corrected.

“Unfortunately.” Piccolo shifted, and rubbed at his eye. “And Nail insisted that I worked at the gym. I’m not particularly sociable, but Nail harassed me about still needing social interaction.”

“It’s kind of a good thing to have,” Chi Chi chuckled.

“If you say so.” He peeled his lip back into a sneer. “I was fine with my grocery shop visits.” He’d almost let something slip, but Chi Chi just plucked at the end of the jacket sleeves.

“Well, now you have plenty of social interaction.” She grinned. “Though, geez… I can’t believe you have so much money! Daddy’s old money dried up long ago. What, do you just never touch the stuff?”

“Pretty much. I live off my gym checks, and put all of my father’s money away into a savings account. I’m the only one I have to look after, so I see no reason to waste it all.”

Chi Chi gave an appreciative whistle. “If I had money, I’d probably spend it all,” she admitted. “I’d want a nice house, to buy Gohan all these toys.” She looked down at the sales paper. “But—there ain’t no use in wishing!” She perked up, and flapped the pages in his direction. “Even if you’re rich, I’m not, so we’re goin’ on Black Friday hunts!”

“Why multiple?” he groaned. “Isn’t it going to be bad enough lugging these chairs around?”

“That’s what you’re here for, big boy.”

He’d been warned in advance, of course, that this was the entire reason he’d been the one invited. He was rather large, and though Chi Chi was plenty strong, she was still rather tiny. When it came to busting through crowds, she was not the most adept shape. She told him one year she’d been completely trampled, and it didn’t matter how many knee caps she’d kicked out, she hadn’t been able to get back up. He was alarmed at the severity of the stampeding, but she’d just went on an hour rant about the sales that she’d missed due to being in the hospital. Then she’d lamented the bill for another twenty minutes before her lunch break had ended and she’d had to go back to work.

This time she was prepared though, and had brought Piccolo to handle luggage, and general crowd parting. Everyone in line was already giving him nervous glances when he stood up, and slung the chairs over his shoulders. Chi Chi told him that anything and everything was legal tonight— “Think Purge, okay? Think murder.” Slightly drastic, but he appreciated the little glint that came into her eyes whenever she spoke about it.

The doors opened, and whatever Piccolo had prepared himself for, it wasn’t enough. People immediately swarmed and disregarded the line entirely. Chi Chi was almost swept underneath, but Piccolo snatched her from the waves of people, and plunged in. He wanted to leave, desperately wanted to be anywhere but in this godforsaken store, but Chi Chi wanted Gohan to have the best Christmas ever, and he’d be damned if he ruined either of their days.

Chi Chi clung tight to his shoulders, but he didn’t have time to appreciate his crush piggybacking on him. He had to focus on wading through everyone. Even his height and bulk weren’t adding much—though he could easily see how someone like Chi Chi had been swarmed. He elbowed a man directly in the face, and the guy had kept on running.

Piccolo decided humanity was scarier than he’d given them credit for.

“THERE! RED ITEM NUMBER ONE! BATMAN’S CAVE!” Chi Chi’s shriek was in his ear, and before he could stop her, she’d leapt from his back. He stared, horror-struck, as she landed on someone else’s back, and snagged one of the giant caves. People tried to grab it from her, and Piccolo had to physically fight to get to her. She’d just hit someone with the Batman cave when he’d snatched her up once more.

She was spitting mad still, but he pushed further into the store.

She continued to yell items and their current level on the key, along with where they were. Each time was worse than the last. At the RC’s, a woman grabbed Chi Chi by the hair and yanked her off of a shelf. Piccolo had—very politely—picked the woman up, and set her on top of a display. Chi Chi had eagerly flipped her off, while grabbing the very thing the woman had been after.

At another display, a man grabbed Piccolo’s antennae. He’d yelped and doubled over, just as Chi Chi barreled into the man like a bull and knocked him flat on his ass. He was ever-so-grateful for her rough and tumble nature right then, and gladly accepted her scrambling onto his back once more. At least there she was remotely safe.

With their hands full, and looking worse for wear, they made it to the checkout counter, where the associate rang them all up. The young boy looked like he was ready to have a nervous breakdown, while more seasoned veterans stood to the side, blank looks on their faces as they scanned items, and endured the screaming curses of customers.

“All right, big guy!” Chi Chi shouted. “Next store!”

By the time they got back up to Ox’s house, Piccolo was dead inside. Not only had he endured Black Friday in all of its incarnations, he’d also had to ride in the car with Chi Chi up and down the mountain side—which, frankly, never got any less terrifying. Chi Chi had them leave everything in the car for when they left the next day, as they both decided they were too exhausted to make the ride home.

Ox made Chi Chi hot cocoa, and brought Piccolo a water bottle and an ice pack for his antennae. So many customers had grabbed them to stop him, that they were purple and discolored. Chi Chi winced in sympathy, but she was sporting a black eye of her own, so he felt like neither of them won.

“I tell you every year that it’s too dangerous down there,” Ox sighed, and kicked his feet up by the fireplace. Lazuli was standing to the side, actually looking slightly impressed.

“Huh. You sure can take a beating there, can’t you?”

He gave her a rather tired look.

Chi Chi got up and went to her room at one point, and Piccolo was ready to go to sleep as well. He bid Ox good night (which meant he grunted in the man’s general direction) and hobbled down the hallway. He was stopped by Chi Chi, who stood in her bedroom door. She hadn’t changed, and Piccolo’s jacket hung on her petite form.

“Hey… sorry for, y’know, your antennae.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbled, still clutching the ice pack. “At least we got Gohan his presents.”

“True,” she grinned. Piccolo glanced behind her, and saw that the manikin was still there with the white dress. She craned her neck, saw what he was looking at, and shifted to the side. “Wanna see?”

Piccolo shifted, before making his way awkwardly over. He leaned his shoulder against the door frame, but Chi Chi pulled him in further. He was forcibly moved to the bed—red, with gold pillows. It was a bit gaudy, but he supposed to each their own. Little dragon statues were all around, presumably from the sports team that she and Ox had been pissed over. There were a few pictures in her bedroom, and Piccolo stared.

It was definitely Chi Chi’s mother. No doubt about it. The woman had the same inky black hair that spilled down her back. It was much longer than Chi Chi’s, and the woman didn’t have the same fiery eyes that her daughter had. Her mother had a softer face, and sweeter eyes, with her hands delicately cradled around a baby Chi Chi. Next to Ox, she was puny, and now Piccolo saw where the height came from.

“She moved here from China,” Chi Chi said suddenly, her gaze soft as she looked at the picture. “I wish I’d known her. All I have his old pictures, a wedding dress, and a diary. When she came here, she met daddy, and she wrote about it all the time. She thought he was wonderful.” She moved over to the picture, which she picked up, staring down at it. “From everything I’ve read, and what daddy tells me, she was a real lady. Nice and sweet, a loving wife… she probably would have been a great mother.”

Piccolo remained stoic, his hands clasped in his lap.

“I wish I could be like her,” Chi Chi admitted, her mouth twisting down in a frown. “She knew how to sew—she made that wedding dress…” She pointed at the white garment that flowed down the manikin’s body. “She couldn’t cook though. Daddy was the best at that.” Her eyes crinkled up at the corners. “But she did all the cleaning, and the laundry. She was sweet, never picked a fight.”

“Sounds boring,” Piccolo snorted, and Chi Chi gave him a startled look. He realized that it was probably not the most tactful thing to say. He grimaced. “I just—I meant—,”

Chi Chi’s face broke, though, as she laughed. “I think you’re the first person to ever come to that conclusion,” she said.

Piccolo grumbled to himself, his cheeks a vivid purple.

“It’s fine, big guy.” She propped her hands on her fists. “Regardless—I’m still going to be the best damn house wife ever.” She nodded sharply. “I’ll wear my mom’s dress, and be like she was… though, I guess… not entirely like her, huh?”

“I hope not,” Piccolo grunted. “If you never picked a fight again, I’d think you were sick.”

“Today doesn’t count,” Chi Chi protested. “You saw—I was provoked.”

“You jumped on a lady’s head to get to something.”

“I didn’t tell her to wear that ridiculous hat that looked like a trampouline.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but… apparently, that’s not a bad thing.” Chi Chi grinned.

Piccolo felt a small smile appear on his face, and Chi Chi stepped a little closer. They were interrupted, though, as Ox stuck his face in the door.

“Sorry to break this up—but it’s getting late, innit, boy?”

Piccolo nodded hastily. He didn’t know why, but he felt like he’d been caught doing something bad. He quickly scrambled out of the door, and into Goku’s bedroom. He could hear the soft noises of Chi Chi Chastising Ox, before the two separated and the entire house was soon asleep.

Except for Lazuli, who had plopped down on the bed beside Piccolo. She propped her head up on her hand, and gave him a curious look.

“Wow—I dunno what happened, but you apparently did surprisingly well.”

“All that happened was I got the shit beat out of me,” he complained, but Lazuli made a tsk noise.

“Don’t be so bitter. You clearly made progress. You two were having a quiet little moment, all alone… in her bedroom.”

Piccolo quickly turned away from Lazuli, and pressed his face into the pillow. There was no way in hell he was doing this. He was sore, and he was going to have to endure yet another car ride tomorrow. He quickly reminded Lazuli of that, and she made a gagging noise, before laying down as well. She’d gotten rid of her wings, and he could feel her lying beside him. For the first time, he wondered what would happen if he ever found someone. Obviously, Chi Chi was out of the question, but what about later? He found it hard to imagine his life without Lazuli at this point. She was a pain in the ass, but she was a constant. He viewed her like he viewed Nail. Annoying as hell, but there.

He quickly forgot his thoughts as he slipped into sleep, and couldn’t remember what had made him worried the night before. He bolted down the pancakes that Chi Chi hade made them, chugged his waters, and prayed to whoever sent him Lazuli to keep him safe on the up-coming ride.

* * *

 

After their safe return, Chi Chi appeared the very next day, dragging a box behind her. Piccolo gave it a curious glance, and shuffled out of her way as she pulled it in. The box was large, and it was swiftly followed by a huge plastic container.

“Hey!” She grinned up at him, and he saw her cheeks were ruddy from the cold front that had finally blown in. Her hair was tucked up into a hat, and she wore the jacket she’d stolen from Piccolo during Thanksgiving. “We’re putting you up a Christmas tree, big boy!”

Lazuli was sprawled out on the couch, and gave him a thumbs up. “Mistletoe, lover boy!”

Piccolo snarled at her, but was soon baffled as Chi Chi began pulling random pieces out of what looked like plastic out of a it. He remained confused as she stuffed a few poles covered in the prickly stuff into his hands, before he realized that it was supposed to be a Christmas tree. He puckered his brow up, and stared at the offensive monstrosity.

“Why.” It wasn’t even a question, and Chi Chi knew it, judging by the cheeky grin that she threw his way.

“Simple, big guy. We’re getting you into the Christmas spirit!” Chi Chi didn’t give him a choice, and immediately turned to setting up the tree stand. He tried to protest, but she set her phone to blast Christmas music, and the way that she danced merrily around the room made him rethink it. When she moved like that, he would have gladly dropped to his knees and given her his very soul if she’d wanted it.

He grumbled and groaned, but he helped her wrap the lights around the tree, all while she kept throwing tinsel around his shoulders, loudly proclaiming which colors looked the best on him. She finally snatched up an entire strand of lights, draped it over his neck, pulled him down close, and grinned.

“I think I prefer all of them on you,” she said, and he’d felt something in him jerk at their proximity. The way she gripped the lights led him to be hunkered down before her, and the very thought of it made heat pool between his legs. He was a little perturbed by the slickness between his thighs, but he remained stooped there while she held him captive.

“If you’re going to bone, let me know! I want to leave!” Lazuli’s droll voice broke him out of his reverie, and he coughed. Chi Chi relinquished him, and thankfully didn’t comment on his violet face. She continued singing loud and off-key to every song, and Piccolo actually found himself smiling on a few occasions.

She was beautiful. Her hat had a stupid bauble that kept moving around, and ended up in his nose on occasion. She kept spilling hot chocolate on his carpet, then screeching about it as she frantically scrubbed away at it. There were a few times where she got in such a fluster that she tripped over the cords that she had just put down. There were a few times where he could have saved her from tripping, but he found it much more hilarious to watch her windmill her arms into the tree.

When she finally left for the night, she drew up short just outside his door, and looked behind him, where the Christmas tree stood, still a whole foot shorter than Piccolo himself.

“Looks good, big guy. You did excellent work.” Her fist was softer than normal when it thumped into his arm, and her eyes looked larger than ever before. She was smiling, her face soft around the edges as she placed her hands tentatively on his forearms. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Like usual,” Piccolo said. She appeared to be waiting for something, so he lightly returned her normal affectionate punch. She stared at her shoulder where his knuckles rested, before she snorted in laughter, and tossed her head back.

“You’re a doofus, y’know that?” She left then, leaving Piccolo to stare after her in consternation.

“You kind of are,” Lazuli drawled. She had his phone out, and was messaging Krillin with practiced ease, her eyes never even leaving Piccolo. “Honestly. I’m pretty sure she wanted you to kiss her.”

“The hell do you know?” Piccolo growled.

“How to kiss a girl.”

Piccolo wanted to protest, but he supposed that she was right. “I know how to kiss,” he argued finally. “I’ve just never enjoyed it.”

“Useless.” Lazuli slumped down below the edge of the couch to where he could no longer see her. “We both know you want to kiss Chi Chi, though—so why not just do it?”

Because she’d never forgive him, and would possibly leave his life forever. And while the thought of someone doing that had never scared him before, the thought was horrendous now. He rather liked Chi Chi, and the changes she brought to his life. Even something as garish as the Christmas tree stood there in memory of her. He frowned at the decorations for a moment, before heading off to his room. He didn’t respond to Lazuli, but she didn’t seem to concerned about the answer.

When he came to work the next day, he was startled to see that Nail had also decorated the gym. Though, apparently not alone, as Vegeta was present during daylight hours with wreaths laced around his arms. He gave Piccolo a passing glance as he entered, a respectful nod, then returned to hanging things where he was directed to by Nail.

“The hell is all this?” Piccolo asked. Chi Chi’s tree had been ridiculous, but remotely tasteful. This mess was just gaudy, and had him on sensory overload. Every inch was decorated in something holiday themed.

“Christmas decorations,” Nail said, tapping a pen aggravatedly against his clipboard. “Is that not obvious?”

“Don’t be an ass,” Piccolo sneered. “Why the hell are you decorating for a holiday we don’t celebrate?” Granted, Piccolo’s own apartment was currently over-run, but never mind all of that. His had been unsolicited, and not in a place of business.

“Well, humans aren’t exactly fond of celebrating Sha’ah Porunga, now are they?” Nail sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate this stuff as much as the next person, but you know how humans get. Anything unfamiliar and they panic. So—instead of decorating this place up in weird smelling plants and dragon statues, I thought I’d run a little Christmas special and try to get enthusiasm up.”

Piccolo shrugged, and went to go work with his clients. During his lunch break, he went to a local coffee shop, grabbed a hot chocolate along with a crème filled, chocolate glazed donut, and headed over to Chi Chi’s work. He found her at a register, looking worse for wear, and sporting a rather large elf hat, and an atrocious Christmas sweater, with dancing vegetables on it.

“Mandatory,” she grumbled, and shook her head. She’d gladly accepted the donut and hot chocolate, thanking him extensively. She tucked both underneath her register, and talked to Piccolo for a few moments before another customer approached. He bid her good-bye, and was surprised, on the way out, to see Lazuli sitting with Krillin.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” the blonde called over to him.

He entered the little café, with his hand stuffed in his pants pockets. “I brought Chi Chi a snack,” he explained.

“Why not just get her something from here?” It was clearly Krillin’s day off, as the man was sitting there in a nice cardigan, and blue jeans. His smile was rather friendly as he looked up at Piccolo. The two didn’t know each other very well personally, but they’d ran into each other a few times through Lazuli’s interactions with the man.

“She prefers the bakery over by the gym,” Piccolo explained. “Something about the glaze they use being better, and their hot chocolate machine.” He shrugged.

Lazuli smirked as she lifted her own mug to her lips. “How sweet,” she murmured. “Oh, wait. I’ll accompany you back. It was good to see you, Krillin.” She stood, and pressed a kiss to the cop’s cheek, leaving him looking a little flustered. She fell into step with Piccolo, and the two headed back to the gym.

“I’m surprised you left,” Piccolo said—because normally, it was hell to pull Lazuli away from the cop. She made a noncommittal noise, and brushed some of the hair off her face.

“Well, I get the feeling that my mission’s going to be over soon,” Lazuli said. “I’m preparing for the inevitable.”

Piccolo furrowed his brow. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that, even an idiot like you has to have an epiphany at some point.” Lazuli’s words were lost into the puffs of steam that rose from her mouth, and Piccolo felt like something was crawling along his spine. He was certain he understood Lazuli’s words, but he couldn’t quite admit it to himself.

He wanted to say something, but found he was incapable. He never was particularly good at talking to people, but Lazuli didn’t seem to mind.

“I suppose I was rather lucky that one of my assignments brought me to him,” she murmured. “And that I was able to stay for so long. I felt like I owed him some peace of mind, at first… to let him know that everything was okay, and that the girl was fine.”

Piccolo glanced down at her. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him that I was an angel sent from heaven to help you out.”

Piccolo visibly screeched to a halt, and balked as he stared at Lazuli. She, however, did not stop walking, and only gave him a rather bland look. He soon resumed his pace, but he could still feel himself panicking.

“Lazuli—what the hell? He’s going to think you’re insane!”

“You just saw him in there with me,” she snorted, clearly derisive. “I showed him my wings and everything. He knows the truth now.”

Piccolo still couldn’t wrap his head around it. “Isn’t there some weird law about revealing yourself?”

“No, not really.” Lazuli shrugged her shoulders. “We stay covert so that whoever we’re helping doesn’t have to worry about people coming to them, or just to avoid confusion for non-believers.” She wouldn’t look directly at him, and instead took to inspecting the bricks on all of the buildings that they passed. “I guess it’s just unfortunate. To fall for him when I’m dead.”

He grimaced, and gave her an awkward thump on the shoulder. Instead of her normal, aggravated look, though, she actually gave him a rather tender smile. He was startled, but it didn’t last for long, as she quickly swatted his arm away.

“All right, green bean, hurry it the hell up. Your lunch is probably over by now.”

“No, it’s no—shit!”

He’d showed back up, late once more, and had received a rather scornful look from Nail. He was almost assigned janitor duty, when thankfully Vegeta had swooped in.

“Please, keep your miserable cousin to yourself. Him and that woman disgust me—and he was practically useless anyways.”

Piccolo was torn between wanting to punch Vegeta in the teeth, and thanking him. His gratitude quickly dissipated though, as Nail whirled on Piccolo.

“So… that woman?”

“It’s just Chi Chi,” Piccolo grumbled, attempting to escape Nail, who was scuttling along behind him in the gym. “The girl that I helped sign up here.”

“Oh.” Comprehension dawned on Nail’s features. “Of course! She’s in my kick boxing class.” He gave Piccolo a wry smile. “Nice choice. Very solid.”

“Nail,” Piccolo’s voice carried a warning it, but Nail waved him off.

“Fine, fine. But as your last remaining family member—,”

“Dende and Kami are still alive.”

“—the only close family member, I wish you had told me that you’d become interested in a girl. I could have offered a hand!”

“Trust me, I have enough help,” Piccolo looked pointedly to where Lazuli was fluttering up by the ceiling. “And anyways, I’m not dating Chi Chi, nor am I going to. Relax.”

“You know Kami’s going to want to meet her, right?”

Piccolo groaned, and quickly headed towards his next appointment.

* * *

 

“So, we’re all going to daddy’s for Christmas,” Chi Chi said as she leaned against her register. Piccolo had stopped by on his day off to shop, and he’d of course come through her line. “You wanna come with us?” He didn’t, if he were being honest. It wasn’t that he protested to spending more time with Chi Chi, but it was specifically that the ‘we’ clearly included her roommates and Gohan. While Gohan was perfectly fine, he didn’t fancy spending alone time with the dipshits.

Lazuli kicked him repeatedly in the shin, though, until he agreed.

The only plus side was that Chi Chi allowed him to ride up front. This time, their visit with Ox would last a few days, and so he threw a duffel bag together haphazardly. Lazuli whined the entire time he loaded his bag up that there wasn’t enough space for her.

“Can’t you just fly there?” he hissed.

“Have you seen that mountain?” she snarled under her breath.

“Use magical angel powers to teleport!”

“That’s not how that works!”

“I don’t think you even know how your powers work!”

Lazuli sneered, and stormed up to the front of the car where she pointedly waited for Piccolo to clamber into the car. He was thankful of the heat whenever he tucked his legs in. Lazuli squished in after him, and he attempted to look completely normal as a woman that no one else could see lodged herself firmly between his knees in the floorboard. The roommates were already in the backseat, with Gohan spider web strapped between them.

“Hey, Cheech,” Goku’s voice sounded slightly nervous as he rubbed at his spiked hair, “Don’t you think me or Yamcha should drive?”

“Goku?” Chi Chi’s voice was deceptively sweet as she craned her neck to look over her shoulder. “Are you trying to imply something about my driving?”

“It’s just, aren’t you tired?” Yamcha attempted, just to be abruptly silenced as Chi Chi slammed her foot to the gas pedal, and peeled out of Piccolo’s apartment complex. The ride passed in shared fear, as Lazuli clutched at Piccolo’s legs, and he wisely stuffed a pillow up by the window, to prevent concussions like their last trip.

Once they’d scaled the mountain, and were parked outside of Ox’s cottage, everyone gratefully spilled out of the vehicle. Piccolo saw Goku on his knees beside him, and actually felt some form of kinship as the two shared forlorn looks.

“Normally she lets us drive without much fight,” Goku whined. He finally pushed himself to his feet, though, and hobbled over to the trunk, where he and Yamcha began unloading suitcases and presents that were carefully wrapped up. Piccolo helped, while Chi Chi and Gohan had disappeared inside, presumably to let Ox know that they had arrived.

When the men entered the house, Gohan was already swaddled in a blanket, with a cup of cocoa steaming up his glasses. He gave Piccolo a wide grin, but remained snuggled up by the fire. Piccolo gave the boy a rather soft looking glare, before he realized that Lazuli had disappeared. He tried to find her at first, but was quickly put to work once Ox caught sight of him. Apparently his first visit was the only time he was excused from being put to good use.

As disgusted as he had been about the prospect of traveling with Goku or Yamcha, the two didn’t seem to really want much to do with Piccolo. They were cordial enough, but made sure not to bother him, and mostly entertained themselves. He had the sneaking suspicion though that they were under careful watch, as occasionally if one of them got too loud they would be swiftly pulled into the kitchen by their ears.

With the presents stuffed under the tree, and everyone seated on the old creaking furniture, there was finally some amount of peace.

“Hey, Piccolo, I need to go get some firewood. Would you walk with me?” Chi Chi was already standing up and pushing her feet into boots.

Ox frowned. “We have plenty of wood to last the night, princess—,”

Yamcha quickly placed a hand on Ox’s arm and quieted the old man when Chi Chi’s fiery gaze turned on him. Piccolo rose to his feet and grabbed his jacket along with Chi Chi’s, and dropped it on her face just to watch her flail angrily in his direction.

They headed outside, and crunched through the snow that had already formed on the ground.

“I hope you like your present,” Chi Chi spoke up, giving him a rather boisterous grin. He felt something like guilt in his stomach.

“I didn’t get you think,” he grumbled.

“It’s fine,” she waved him off. “I didn’t expect anything. Anyways, you helped me on Black Friday. I think I’ll count that as a present all of its own.” She winked, and he flushed, thankful that pockets were a   
thing that existed.

“It’s really nice out on this mountain,” he finally grunted, eyes peering up into the dark expanse of sky, where all the stars winked merrily at him.

“It is, isn’t it?” She led him towards the edge of the woods, where the wood pile was dwindling. She frowned at it. “Ohh… daddy let it slip low.” She sighed, and shook her head. “I’ll make sure to chop some tomorrow.”

“I can help,” he offered.

She smiled at him. “I’d like that. Though, I’ll be honest with you,” Chi Chi plopped down onto the wood pile, “we don’t actually need any firewood tonight. I just wanted to get out of the house.” She tilted her head in his direction, and her bun wobbled. “I love having everyone all together, but I thought it would be nice to step outside for a bit.”

Piccolo made a noise of assent.

“That and—it’s rather nice sitting here with you.” Chi Chi had scooted closer, and Piccolo gulped. He didn’t know how to react as her cold fingers dug into his jacket pocket, and clutched at his own hand. She leaned her head against him, and gave a rather happy sigh. “So… did you not have any family to spend the holidays with? Your cousin Nail, or…?”

“I don’t spend much time with my family,” he admitted. “They’re rather religious Namekians. My uncle and my other cousin—Nail’s little brother—stay at home and celebrate a feast for Porunga.” She gave him a confused looked, and he shook his head. “Long story. Dragon deity.”

“Oh.” Chi Chi nodded. “We don’t really celebrate Christmas religious,” she confided. “But it’s always been nice to exchange presents, and the lights are real pretty.” She laughed, and it was beautiful in the night air. He crouched down, squatting to where he was close to her height.

He’d always wondered what it would look like, to see her from this angle, and it was wonderful. Her little nose was turned up, and he could see small blemishes on her face. Her bangs were chopped a little unevenly, and her smile squished one of her eyes a little more closed than the other.

“What is it?” she asked, puckering her lips into a frown. “Something on my face? –if you let me walk around with food on me, or in my teeth, I’m going to knock you out.”

“It’s nothing,” Piccolo snorted. “A little defensive, aren’t you?”

“Well, girls typically are around someone they’re dating.” Chi Chi snorted.

Piccolo froze, and stared.

“What.”

“Oh, I guess we never did make it official.” She was smiling at him, and Piccolo wasn’t sure what to do. He remained completely still, unable to process what Chi Chi had just said to him. “But after a year of dating, I kind of assumed.” She laughed, then, soft and clear in the night air.

“We’re… dating?” He was dumbfounded, and those two words were already more than he figured he would ever get out.

“Do you not want to?” Chi Chi furrowed her brow. “With the whole, spending every waking minute together, and inviting you out to my family’s house, and almost kissing—,”

“It’s not that I don’t—want to,” Piccolo spluttered, his face purple as he stared in awe at the woman. The woman who he had thought was so thoroughly above him, and how out-ranked him in every way.

The one he’d pined after for over a year, thinking he could never be attractive enough, or nice enough for her. She was sitting there, telling him that she’d thought they were dating the entire time.

“Good.” Chi Chi slugged him on the shoulder, and rose from the pile of wood. “Now come on, big boy. It’s time we head back.”

Piccolo stumbled after her, and tried not to blush too furiously whenever everyone in the cabin turned to look at him. The rest of Christmas passed in a haze to Piccolo. He couldn’t remember the finer details, but he was now acutely aware of every time Chi Chi touched him. Her hand on his shoulder, the plates of food that she made him, and each hip check that sparked his libido.

It was also, in a frustrating turn of events, that he realized that everyone else knew. He finally understood Ox’s sour disposition towards him, and the hearty back claps he kept receiving from Goku and Yamcha. Little Gohan was the only one who seemed to be on his side, and seemed remarkably impressed when he found out. He had crawled into Piccolo’s lap, positioned himself squarely, and had fallen asleep upon the revelation though—which wasn’t much of a comfort.

On Christmas day, he was brought down into the living room, where presents were unwrapped. Gohan was the most excited, especially when he’d learned that Piccolo had assisted in his presents. He’d smiled shyly, and hugged each of them with more than enough exuberance. Piccolo’s present from Chi Chi turned out to be several packages of plain, purple shirts, and he’d never been more ecstatic to receive a gift.

The ride back home was horrendous, but Piccolo now knew that his front seat was guaranteed as the boyfriend. He got to suppress all of his laughs as he heard Goku and Yamcha sliding around in the back, while he enjoyed all of the leg room that the passenger seat offered.

Chi Chi dropped her roommates off first, and then decided to take Piccolo home. They arrived at his apartment, and she walked him to the door. He stood awkwardly in the door frame, until Chi Chi pushed past him, and flopped down on the couch.

“Christmas is exhausting, isn’t it?” Chi Chi sighed, and threw an arm over her forehead.

Piccolo grunted in affirmation, still not entirely sure what to do with his new girlfriend—and hell, even the word seemed surreal. He was distracted by something white on the floor, and he stooped to pick it up. Furrowing his brow, he stared at the white feather that he’d just plucked from his carpet.

“I didn’t know you had a bird?” Chi Chi had popped up at his side.

Piccolo grunted, “I don’t.”

“Huh… have you had your windows open?”

“In the middle of winter?” He gave her a disparaging look.

“Well, you can be weird sometimes, big guy.” Chi Chi was smiling, and her face was close, lit by the Christmas tree lights. She had stepped a little closer, and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. She blushed, and he ducked his head, antennae waggling excitedly. “I’m gonna head home,” Chi Chi murmured, and scuttled towards the door.

“See you—uh… see you tomorrow?” Piccolo’s voice cracked, but he tried to instill confidence in his words.

“Of course.” Chi Chi left, and Piccolo threw the strange feather into the trash can. With a big grin on his face, he went to bed.


End file.
